A Yellow Dress Forgotten
by VoltageStone
Summary: When Clementine was plunged into the age of walkers, muertos, monsters...she quickly learned what it meant to survive. Fight. Kill. Drink. Forget. Leave the past that haunted her. Leave a yellow dress forgotten. [Violetine/Violentine; Mature Content; Minor Canon Divergence (Seasons 3-4); Alcoholism] /Wattpad/
1. Ep1 - Blood-Stained

**This fic is cross-posted on RoyalRoad.**

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**[First Draft] _January 6th, 2020_**  
**[Second Draft, First Edit] _April 3rd, 2020_**  
**[Final Draft & Edit] _November 17th, 2020_**

**[5,175 words]**

_Hope you enjoy!_

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**\- A Yellow Dress Forgotten -**

_**. . Episode 1: Blood-Stained . .**_

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_"I see humans,_  
_but no humanity..."_

_~Jason Donohue_

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The snow swarming the air chipped away her warmth piece by piece. She held the bundle of blankets and the quiet baby in her arms. There were no colors around her other than grey—even the snow's glittering white was even muted. Her blue jacket and the green blanket were the only sharp contrast. Yet, it was still _dull_.

Clementine did not know where she was going, only far, far away. The small pistol snuggled at the small of her back was still warm, and the ghost of its scream still rang in her ears. She wandered down the road, following the remnants of cars and trucks. The girl desperately hoped it wouldn't lead her to a city. Anything but that.

The little girl glanced at her reflection as she passed by the windshields. And in the ones where the snow hadn't fogged the glass, Clementine caught her eyes. The hazel in them…changed.

_"My baby, my doll. You have the sun in your eyes. Who wouldn't want to play with you?" _her dad had once said. _"You're the light in everyone's day!"_

Clementine saw no sun. For quite some time, she hadn't—as if a haze of clouds had covered them. But, on that day, as the snow whipped her face, a crackle of life was born. It wasn't the sun, no. It was an inferno. The same that her parents had warned her so desperately against in their bible-loving home.

Clementine blinked.

Up ahead was a monstrous dark silhouette overlooking a bundle of vehicles. She hesitated before recognizing the comical shape fixed on its roof: it as only donut shop. She squinted through the light patter of snow; Dunkin', by the looks of the lettering. Clementine ventured forth, her mind buzzing and arms tight around the baby. _Her_ only light each day. A.J. When the door was pushed open, Clementine half-expected to hear a bell ring; she found it on a table, long since disarmed. She looked around. To her luck, it had been ransacked. Completely hollowed out of resources. Starved and dismal.

"Fucking…" Clementine swore under her breath, the crackle of life simmering in her glare.

She held A.J closer to her chest. It _was_ warmer inside, however. That she could admit. And empty of _people—_the last thing she could ever want.

Clementine strode into the back, finding some blankets scattered across the floor. It didn't take long for the two to be huddled within those blankets, resting silently.

If only the thoughts Clementine had were as serene. Instead, warfare plagued her consciousness.

A.J coughed and mumbled vowels. Clementine rocked him, and she cooed gently, "We'll be okay, A.J, we'll be okay." At least, that's what she hoped. "Just go to sleep for now, okay? We need rest." As she heard the wind pick up outside, she knew that was all they could do.

**[ . . . ]**

The wheels of the train clacked along its rails in rhythmic beats, accompanied by the engine's hum. Clementine sat at the mouth of the train car, her legs dangling off the edge. She watched the ground blitz by as she fiddled with the edge of her stained-white dress. Clementine grimaced. It was yellow, at that point. Her mother would be extremely disappointed in her—

No. Not...anymore. Her mother was _dead_. Clementine skewed her eyes shut, erasing her face—both healthy and rotted—to save herself from the dismal ache in her chest. And when she blinked them open, all Clementine saw were dead, hollow moons and corroded flesh.

She turned to the creaks of the wooden floor panels, and then smiled gingerly as a shadow of great stature stepped to her. His smile was comforting. Within a minute, Lee sat beside her. They remained quiet for a while with Clementine rubbing her ears. "You loved this train, didn't you?"

Clementine nodded, the persistent ringing of her ears slowly fading away. "Yeah. I never rode on a train before this one."

Lee nodded. He stretched before wrapping his arm around Clementine's shoulder. It was soothing, feeling his arm around her. Clementine's dad was a loving man, but never too physical. It was a rare thing.

She nestled against Lee. The little girl was glad that, in one way or another, she was able to feel a father's embrace for a time after hell escaped amongst the living.

"I remember you said that," he hummed. "Did you ever get tired of it?"

Clementine shook her head. "No. I want to go back here. With you."

"I understand, sweet pea," he murmured. "A lot has happened since I left, hasn't there?" She nodded. Tears welled.

Both of them watched the scenery as it stampeded along. Lee rubbed Clementine's back calmly, humming to himself a tune he didn't quite know. Clementine began to tremble, coughing on the sobs that had developed in only a matter of a second. She clutched her face, her elbows digging into her thighs. Lee's coffee-colored eyes looked down in concern. Clementine had grown since her time wearing the white dress; now, she wore dark jeans and a blue jacket with what used to be vibrant colors, soon dulled from its time with the walking dead. His gaze settled on her Dodgers cap, following the splatter of blood along the side. _His_ splatter of blood.

Lee didn't pause. He continued to soothe her with his gentle hand on her back. "What's wrong, sweet pea?"

Her voice crackled into broken shards: "Le-ee..." Clementine sniffed and looked up at him. "W-Why can't people j-just live...? Li-ike how we used to. I-I don't want people to die."

"Oh, Clementine..." Lee felt her collapse further into his side as he fixed his hand on her shoulder. "Death...never was rare. It was just... We were sheltered from it." Clementine sobbed against his shirt. "I'm sorry you have to see so much."

"Ken-ny didn't have to die... He— He c-could still be alive. And Jane... And...and..." Clementine whimpered, unable to add on.

Lee gazed at his side sadly. "I know... I know sweet pea. The world... It isn't right."

"No... No, y-you don't understand w-what I'm saying..." Clementine looked into his eyes. "I— I let him ki— Kill her. I— I was so afraid and...and I let him."

"Sweet pea—"

"I killed him," Clementine sobbed. "I— I saw what he had done. I saw what Kenny had done. I— I looked into his eyes, and I... I killed him." She cried, clinging to Lee. Her only support. The only other person she wanted by her side. "I didn't even...th-think. I couldn't con—control myself."

Lee closed his eyes with grief, mourning his friend—mourning a daughter, in a way. Mourning her childhood, and the scrap of innocence she had. Lee felt it, how shattered it was, only the shrapnel of a child's naivety left behind. The _only_ piece that would ferment with age, solely dependent on the number of years she lived. "Clementine... I'm so sorry."

"L-Lee...?"

"Yes, sweet pea?"

Clementine didn't speak for a few minutes. Her ears strained, listening to the distant babble of a baby. "Lee...? Do you... Do you still love me? Even though I...I..."

"Of course I do, Clementine. I understand what you're going through," he said. "You're not a monster. You're human. And my father, when I was your age, my pops said to me that being human isn't in the things you do, it's in the things you feel."

"F-Feel...?"

The rattling of the train grew more distant, despite being right underneath her palms. "Yes. And you feel human, even after doing a terrible, terrible thing." Clementine looked up. "It's okay. It's okay..."

"Lee?"

"Just live, Clementine. Just live..."

Lee's voice faded away, melting into giggles and the bellows of thunder. Clementine mumbled incoherent words as she sat up, her eyes gliding around the small shack. She flattened her blue jacket, which was fashioned into a vest—sleeves ripped off—once it had grown tight around her shoulders. She unzipped it just enough, releasing the restrictiveness at the middle of her back. It was still getting too small, like her pants and shoes.

A.J, who also outgrew his clothes (or, well, blanket), was wearing a long blue shirt that was tied in the middle, allowing his small, chunky legs to poke through. He smiled at her, holding his toes as he rocked himself playfully. "Hey A.J, keeping an eye on the storm out there?" she croaked, still groggy. He babbled once again, then crawled to her side. She picked him up and cradled him, brushing off some droplets of rain from his hair. Clementine narrowed her eyes where the rain leaked through; in the garden shed's roof was a large, thin crack that splintered along the walls. It was the best shelter she could manage, and even then…

Her eyes dropped down to A.J's as he stared up at her. He patted her cheek with his chubby hand and giggled. Clementine laughed at his smile. A clap of lightening briefly shook the two, its light stabbing through the slivers in the shed's wood. A.J gave a worried cry before Clementine rocked him, murmuring, "It's okay. It's just lightening." Still, she kept her eyes on the door, half-expecting something worse.

A.J's laugh was muffled, drawing Clementine's attention. "Hey! Don't chew on that!" She pulled the collar tip of her jacket-vest out of his mouth. She moved around, eyes scanning. "Where's that... Oh, right." She scowled. "It's gone." With the rest of the many things she had gathered for A.J to play with; if only that stupid walker hadn't slipped and taken all the toys down the stream with it. She eyed A.J as he teethed her collar again. With a sigh, Clementine relented, allowing him to continue.

After all, he was the only good thing in this damn world, wasn't he? The only beacon of hope in her life.

Clementine pursed her lips in thought. Was she ever the same for Lee?

"Lee..." she whispered, her eyes landing on the handgun left beside her, leaning against her grey backpack. _He was wrong,_ she had countlessly told herself. She may have been human, but she was still, very much, a monster.

She knew one thing: monsters didn't have to be rotting to be so.

**[5 Months Later]**

Clementine scavenged through the box as A.J giggled beside her. "Don't worry, I'm trying to find something for you. There's just nothing here." And, boy, he did need it. He had outgrown the small pajama pants she found (which ripped and was lost to a walker only days prior), leaving him in only the blue shirt.

She scowled. There was only junk. "Shit," she hissed, kicking the box. Clementine switched her attention to the small trunk underneath the bed and tugged it. With some grunts and pants, Clementine managed to heave the trunk into the center of the bedroom. Once it was open, a smile managed to break free. "Finally!" she said, pulling out a bag of chips. Clementine opened it and took out one chip; as she chewed, Clementine eyed the label curiously. "Vin..egar...and sea salt. It tastes fine..."

She scooted towards A.J and held out a chip twice the size of hers. "Here, A.J, you need to eat." A.J's eyes grew wide as he reached for it. Clementine handed it to him, and chuckled as he sloppily ate it with pleasure. His face squeezed itself after a few seconds. "Do you not like it?" He licked his lips and whined a few syllables, reaching for the bag. "Okay, here you go," she said, taking a small handle for herself. A.J squealed and indulged, crumbs littering his cheeks.

Clementine ate her chips with far more manners as she looted through the trunk. "There's so much stuff here!" she told A.J excitedly. One by one, she took out the loot: a blanket, two bottles of water, a half-filled bag of jerky, shoes, a pair of small overalls, a bandanna, and a flask. First, she compared the shoes to her own, which had been feeling tight the last few months. They were bigger in comparison, so Clementine tried them on; her feet didn't slip or slide in them, though her toes weren't crammed at the point. Satisfied, she replaced her shoes with the new ones, and set the old pair to the side. Next, she folded the blanket and slipped it into her backpack, followed by the water and jerky.

She held the flask and hesitated. Slowly, Clementine shook it. There was water in it. She twisted the cap open and peered inside. Frowning, she grew unconvinced. "_Is _that water...?" With nothing much on the line (unless it was poisoned, though she doubted it was), Clementine took a sip. "Ack!" She coughed into her arm. "Ugh... That's _not_ water," she informed A.J, who paused in his meal to stare at her in concern. Clementine licked her lips. It wasn't...terrible. She held her stomach. It made her warm without a blanket. And the taste, it wasn't _great,_ but she could manage.

With care, she closed the flask and dropped it into the bag.

"Okay, A.J, let's give you some new clothes." She looked at the overalls. "These might fit you." A.J hiccupped. He raised both hands, grabbing the air for Clementine. She grimaced and cleaned his hands of chip-muck with the bandanna before carrying him. Clementine patted his back, strolling to the bed. He burped in between hiccups. "You stay here, and I'll put these on you," she said, setting him on the bare mattress. A.J replied with noise.

Clementine worked with him for several minutes, tugging the clothing on. He laughed as she fastened the buttons, sniffing with a long strand of snot flowing down his nose. "Ew, _A.J_._"_ Clementine grabbed the bandanna and cleaned his face. Figuring that the bandanna had proved to be helpful, she tied it around his neck.

Clementine watched him, analyzing his new clothes. The overalls were big on him, but she was sure he'd grow into them soon enough. "You look like a little farmer," she said, marching in place playfully. A.J giggled, swinging his arms to mirror her.

A gunshot tore through the moment.

Panicked, Clementine faced the door. It sounded several pastures away from the ranch house, but its echo didn't sit well with her. She darted towards her bag, zipped it, and snatched her handgun from the floor. A.J babbled as he wobbled his way off the bed, landing on his hind with a thud. He grumbled, staggering on his legs a few paces before toppling to his knees. "A.J! I said stay on the bed!" Clementine gasped, swooping him into his arms.

She whisked herself towards the window, and ducked to the side with A.J crying softly against her shoulder. "It'll be okay, A.J..." Clementine looked out of the window, careful of being seen. There were three dark figures amongst the fields of dead crops and fruitful weeds. They moved too swiftly to be dead. "Shit, shit," she hissed, briskly jogging out of the bedroom door and over the walkers she had killed.

Within a minute, Clementine left the house as the men walked in from the other side—right into the couch she'd overturned. She and A.J disappeared into the trees. Clementine didn't look back as she hopped over logs and meandered around entangled roots. Her curiosity bloomed, however.

Once a good distance away, _that_ was when she glanced back at the house. Nothing. They weren't by the windows facing her. Clementine gulped. She didn't know if they had been following her, or if their near misses were coincidences. She continued walking away, unsure. "It's okay, A.J, it's okay. We're going to find a new place down by the road... It's okay, it's okay..."

**[ . . . ]**

After a few hours of walking, Clementine was thankful of the new shoes she found. A.J slept soundly against the crook of her neck.

At a small intersection, Clementine found herself looking both ways, feet planted right in the center; it wasn't _exactly_ how her mother taught it, but there were rarely any functioning cars anymore. To the left, Clementine saw a gas station. The only building with all four sturdy walls and one functioning roof around. In other words: the only building not _completely_ built out of wood. She walked towards it, careful of any walkers. While there were stragglers in the distance, she knew they wouldn't be any danger to her for quite a while—if they ignored the station, anyway.

Stepping inside, she looked around. The tables were toppled over for some sort of cover, and bullet holes riddled them from corner to corner. She eyed the few bodies that never turned. With a wince, Clementine decided that she was glad to have avoided the shootout by however many _days_ had passed; though, even if the apocalypse had tarnished her sense of smell, she tried not to inhale the death too much.

Clementine continued to quietly look around. There were walkers as well, though they had been put to rest a while before she came by. She ducked through the counter's gate.

Completely looted.

"Great..."

Even so, she poked her head into the back room and found another door. Satisfied with the area cleared, Clementine moved back to the front and set her bag down. A.J stirred, and she wrapped the blanket around him. After she set him down beside her, his head on a torn cushion from one of the chairs (blood, bone, guts and dirt dusted off), Clementine rubbed her shoulders.

She shivered. With A.J bundled in the only blanket, Clementine was left frigid. Her arms were kept to her biceps, her eyes wandering. They landed on her bag. She was drawn back to her family gathered around a fire underneath a powerline. Passing a bottle around (which skipped her, somehow). The warmth of the air. Their calming grins. A family...long since dead. And she couldn't bring them back, Clementine knew.

Hands searched through the bag eagerly. Clementine pulled out the flask and rested against the wall. She stared long and hard at it. The drink inside was tempting._ "I can be your friend,"_ it promised. _"I can make you warm, for the night."_

Clementine worked her jaw in thought. She unscrewed the cap carefully, almost wary of it. Uncertain, Clementine licked the inside of the top. The tip of her tongue prickled, and her mouth watered. She gulped. She sipped just enough to taste it. The urge to cough forced her to gag. But, as Clementine noted, she was somewhat warmer. Another sip. She managed to control her cough and swallow it with the rest of the booze.

Another sip.

Another sip.

A gulp.

Another gulp.

Another gulp for everything to drain away and leave her at peace.

**[ . . . ]**

Clementine groaned as she blinked awake. She frowned, noticing the blanket laid across her hip and thigh. "A.J?" she muttered. "Is that you?" Towards the window, A.J cried out in glee as he stood on the chair he'd climbed onto. Clementine wiped her eyes and stretched; it had been a while since she slept so soundly. She picked up the flask and shook it. Gone. With a sigh, Clementine tucked it back into the bag to be filled later. A.J babbled again. She looked up. "What is it, A.J?"

"Ah..." he said, jabbing his finger on the window. "Ah..."

Pulling the blanket off, Clementine crawled towards the window, poking her head up just enough to see. She narrowed her eyes. "What... _No!"_ She was quick to peel A.J away from the window. "It's them again, A.J! We need to get out of here!" She roughly packed the blanket into the bag and zipped it up. Once Clementine hauled it over her shoulder, she snapped, "Come on, we need to move!" With A.J in her arms, her urgent words were more for herself than the toddler. She opened the counter's gate carefully with A.J in her other arm. As quietly as she could, Clementine bolted towards the back door in the other room. She jerked the handle, which wouldn't budge. "Come on, come on, come _on!"_ Clementine rushed. "We need to leave!"

A.J screamed, pulling her eyes towards the narrow window in the door. "No...!" she hissed.

A man stood, leering within the narrow glass. His one eye that wasn't covered in a bloody bandage widened, and his grin exposed his gnarly teeth. "THEY'RE IN HERE!" Clementine scampered away, towards the front door. She swerved around the counter.

But to no avail.

A blond man burst through, his arms reaching for them. He snagged the bag, to which Clementine promptly writhed out of, her arms iron-tight around A.J. She hurled herself away from both men, smacking into the same wall she had her generous sleep against. A.J wailed as the blond man snatched him. "No! NO! LET HIM GO!" Clementine screamed.

"QUIET!" The man with one eye backhanded her, which tore her hands from A.J. Another man stormed into the room, his skin the lightest of the group, blending with his grey eyes and white hair—a ghost. A.J bawled, tears washing down his puffy cheeks as he snatched the air for her.

"Let him go!" Clementine detested.

The one-eyed man scowled, shaking his head. His leather shoes booted her stomach, forcing her to cough and curl around herself. A large hand tugged the collar of her shirt. Her feet barely scraped the ground. "You will listen to _me_ now," he seethed quietly, which was far more sinister than his bellowing yell.

"I won't! Give me back A.J!"

The man snarled, dragging her out of the gas station with the other two ahead. Clementine kicked his knee, the man snarled sharply. "You little bitch!" He threw her against the large dumpster, the clatter of the impact ringing in her ears. She grasped her head with the man watching. Clementine swore she was going to vomit. She swore that the man was the devil. The little girl stumbled over her own feet, the world a haze, before plummeting back to the asphalt.

Her vision grew unfocused until there was nothing to see.

**[ . . . ]**

"GET UP, RIGHT NOW!"

Clementine jerked away with a gasp, inhaling so sharply that it sliced her lungs. She coughed and blinked rapidly, screwing her eyes tight with the flashlight pointed at her. "I'm awake! I'm awake!" she cried. The blinding light was torn away from her, allowing Clementine to adjust to the candle-lit room. She looked around, her heart throbbing against her chest. She was on a worn couch. A knife on the nightstand beside her. Several duffel bags, empty, on the kitchen table down the hall. But no baby. "Where's A.J?!" She moved across the couch to look around. "Where's A—"

The man with the blind eye—bandage removed to reveal a sagged crater with a grey orb—whirled around and punched the wall in a fury. "What did I fucking say?! _DON'T MOVE!"_

"Jesus, Daron," the other man—with blond hair—said. "Chill out. What is she going to do, step on your shoe?"

"I don't want her getting the wrong impression," Daron snapped.

The blond man simpered. "Yeah, like she's actually going to hurt us. She's just a kid! You can chill the fuck out." He turned towards Clementine. "And the boy's fine, if that's what you're asking. He's just in the barn." The two men glared at each other before the blond walked outside, hands tossing and door slamming.

Daron breathed deeply, glaring out the window. "I swear…" His head jerked towards her, completely startling Clementine. "Now," he started, barely able to maintain his composure as he settled into the chair facing her, "do you know why you're here?"

"No," Clementine answered bluntly. "You've been following _me_ for days," she added in a hiss.

Daron gave a chopped laugh, unamused. "Now you _better_ listen here. And _do not_ lie to me again—"

"I'm not lying!"

"You brat, I said _listen!"_ Clementine thought it wise to keep quiet for the meantime. She narrowed her eyes. "You, little shit, _stole_ supplies and let one of our horses escape! What do you have to say to that?!"

"I didn't—do—it," she answered through gritted teeth. "You got the wrong girl."

"Really?" Daron huffed sourly. "Not a lot of little girls running around here. You're from that camp up in Pebble Creek, aren't you?!"

"I don't even know where that is!" Clementine shifted on the couch as he leaned closer with a sneer. "You have the wrong girl, I'm telling you! Now let me go with A.J—!" She yelped as his open hand plummeted down on her cheek, sending her straight from the couch to the hard, splintering floor. On the way down, Clementine smacked against the nightstand with a clatter. She groaned, blinking in front of her. The knife, hidden in the shadows, was inches from her nose. Ever so tempting. Ever so beckoning.

Daron got to his feet and spat on the ground. His voice was low and grueling: "Now pick yourself up and we'll try that again."

Clementine didn't think. She grabbed the knife and swerved to her side. Daron had barely any time before its blade sunk deep into the crook of his ankle and foot. He screamed, and immediately he tugged her away. Daron's agony only multiplied as Clementine held onto the knife, completely slitting his foot open through the shoe—through a toe once she was finally yanked away. He collapsed, clutching his leg as she staggered to her feet. "OH NO YOU DON'T, YOU LITTLE BITCH!" he gutturally snarled.

She bellowed angrily as his hand clenched down on her foal-like leg, attempting to snap it. Instead of fighting against the force, Clementine hurled herself onto Daron, knife at hand. With everything a blur, Clementine was soon on the ground with a sore jaw. Daron's hands went to her neck, his teeth bare and eyes rabid. She scratched his wrists, kicking and choking on her own screams. Her arms flailed as she reached under the couch for the knife.

Her vision became dotty. And yet...she was warm. A buzz drove her. The buzz, it thundered within her blood, directing every bone in her body.

Clementine's fingers slipped on the knife's hilt, her other hand digging into his wrist. She frowned in fear—and confusion. What was that buzz? What sort of unbridled rage hummed throughout her?

Clementine clumsily whipped the knife out and punctured his seeing eye. He howled in pain, his grip around her neck loosening. Clementine gasped for air, and this time, the sharpness of her breath was welcomed. With no time to lose, the knife sunk deeper into his skull. Daron gagged. From his mouth, his blood sprayed, pattering Clementine's skin with a dark red. His breath was gurgled, his grey eye rolling.

As he fell on top of her, Clementine grunted. The hilt of the knife crushed her sternum.

After a minute of kneeing and punching him off, Clementine snatched the pistol from the small of his back and charged towards the door. Her hand rested on the doorframe as she struggled to retain her breathing, her thoughts suddenly caught up to her. The past few minutes were heavy on her shoulders, urging her to look behind. Clementine did. She found a man lying beside the couch in a pool of his own blood, mouth gaping and face obliterated.

Clementine choked on a broke whimper, tearing herself away from the sight. Away from the monstrosity she committed.

Five months—she had counted with each night, regardless of sleep. Five months, and she couldn't retain herself from claiming another life. Clementine gasped, managing her trembles. It shouldn't have been quick to do so. She hissed.

But it was.

Swallowing the last of her tears, Clementine glared out the door. It scared her how composed she became, and how the buzz coaxed her ease; even so, she pushed through the door, and her eyes were set on the barn. The buzz throbbed along her body. Its hum continued to course through her thoughts. She was hungry for the flask, wherever it was.

The grip around the gun and knife tightened. She steadily marched towards the wide doors where the light of a lantern flickered. As she drew closer, Clementine heard the wails of A.J and the gritty hisses of foul language from the third man.

She stalked behind him and aimed the gun. Hatred itched her chest as she sneered. "Let us go," Clementine commanded, her voice uneven.

The man froze, and sat up from the footstool he was on. "What the fuck is Daron doing letting her—" As he turned around, his eyes widened. The man found a little girl, pistol in one hand and a knife in the other, fresh blood painted on her face with eyes steady on him.

"Let. Us. Go." Clementine became gradually restless. Her hand began to tremble on the gun—not to drop it, but to jerk her trigger finger.

The blond man was stunned by the hellfire in her eyes. She was no child— She _couldn't_have been. Those golden eyes were blaring, blinding him of the pistol raised at his head. There was a long moment of a dreadful silence. There was no need to ask what happened to Daron. Those eyes of hellfire said everything. How much of a miscalculation it was to catch the girl. How much of a mistake it was to have the one-eyed man interrogate her.

Her face was pulled into a sneer, jaw clenched and eyes livid. The crack of the bullet and his skull was the last thing he heard, and Clementine darting away towards the hysterical baby was the last thing he ever saw.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

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_And so here's the first episode of this fic! As you can probably tell already, this story is based off of my in-game choices as Clementine, and essentially what I envision the aftermath of Season Two. For a little run-down of the rest of this tale, Episodes 2 & 3 are based off of A New Frontier, leaving Episodes 4-7 based off of The Final Season; there is an extra chapter—Episode 1.5, if you will—that takes place between Episode 1 and Episode 2 of this fic. It is considered to be an interlude, separating the episodes based off of the third and fourth seasons. So, in total, there will be eight chapters, but seven episodes, yes?_

_Anyway, I will say, for those who are planning on binging this…it's a long one. Don't let this chapter fool you. xD It's the only one under 15k words (and 5k, as a matter of fact), so you'll be sitting here for a while. It's a project of passion, and I go all in._

_So, with that said, grab a snack, get comfy, or take some breaks! I hope you enjoy!_

_:)_


	2. Ep2 - Dragon's Breath

**[First Draft] _January 8th, 2020_  
[Second Draft, First Edit] _April 4th, 2020_  
[Final Draft & Edit] _November 28th, 2020_**

**[24,865 words]**

_Hope you enjoy!_

_:)_

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**\- A Yellow Dress Forgotten -**

**_. . Episode 2: Dragon's Breath . ._**

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_"Whoever fights monsters_  
_should see to it that in that process_  
_he does not become a monster..."_

_~Friedrich Nietzsche_

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**[1 1/2 Years Later]**

Stealing the medicine she was promised was the only thing Clementine knew that would save his life. Especially since in that camp, in the middle of the woods, there was _nothing else._

It really shouldn't have surprised her that in a matter of minutes, she'd be surrounded. Her eyes darted across the group of people. Several large men with guns. Ava, who crossed her arms and fiercely watched Clementine, disappointment in her eyes. Dr. Lingard, who was still very hungover from his high.

And David. The one who promised that he'd do anything in his power to help her. Now?

The fire of their camp surrounded by the tents and _soldiers—_David's soldiers. All of whom glaring at the little girl who didn't know a thing. The little girl that got in the way. The little girl that wielded a sharp tongue. The little girl that they reminded her so. But Clementine would beg to differ: "You can't be doing this! A.J needed that medicine! He would've died!"

"You just cost us another man!" David snapped back. "Down the road, one of us gets hurt, what's going to help the people who are capable of helping?!"

The doctor stepped in. He held out his hand gently, with the same energy as some fucking _martyr. _ "And in any case, Clementine," he drawled languidly, "that one syringe isn't going to do much. It's just going to buy him some time. That's it."

"It was a waste."

"'A was—'" Clementine scowled. "No! I would do it again if I had to! You can't sit there and tell me it was a waste because— Hey! _Hey! _LET GO OF HIM!" The baby was torn from her grasp. "You... You can't fuckin—!"

"You know what we do to those who betray us," David snarled. "You know what must be done. You're not welcome here any longer."

Clementine clenched her fist and hissed, "Fine. _Fine_. I don't need you anyway. Just give me back—"

David blocked her. "No. You alone." Clementine stammered, unable to get a complete sentence out.

She looked to Ava for help. Somewhat guiltily, David's right-hand woman obliged: "Come on, David. Just, just let her say goodbye."

Clementine locked her jaw. The fury, she swallowed it down and sighed. Slowly, Clementine walked towards A.J and cupped his cheek. "A.J..." she whispered, pecking his forehead, "be good while I'm gone, okay?" A.J whined and grasped the air for her.

Clementine turned herself away, guided by David into the woods. At a clearing, some distance from the circle of people, who gradually disbanded, A.J's cries pierced through the air. David said, "We will make sure he won't suffer, Clementine."

"Fuck you..." she whined.

"_Clementine."_

Clementine sneered, twisting around. "Fuck. _You_._"_ She thrusted her hand towards the camp. "He would have made it if you had given him medication _sooner!_ You said I could be your fucking runner for a few nights!"

"We needed that—"

"IT'S BEEN WEEKS!" she bellowed.

"Do _not_ yell at me! I'm the reason why you were welcomed here!"

Clementine shook her head with a livid grin. "No, Ava was. Not you." A scowl. "Bastard." She turned away, knife in one hand and a maroon, leather-clad flask in the other.

As she drank, David hissed, "I would've stepped in if it weren't for that devil's drink." Like a cobra, Clementine's head darted towards him, though all he saw was her alcoholic venom striking his eyes. David roared, pressing hard against them. "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" His eyes stung a violent red as he glared at her. "AFTER ALL I DID FOR YOU, YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER BRAT!"

He swung at her blindly, only to receive a drunken clobber to the center of his face. David grunted, pinching the swelling bridge of his nose. "Fuch... You budch!" he gruffly snarled.

Clementine rubbed the raw knuckles in her right hand, which held the flask tightly. Lowly, she hissed, "You're going to get what's coming to you." Branches snapped and bushes rustled. Urgently, Clementine snapped her head up. Three shadows briskly emerged from the trees, armed and loaded. Scowling, Clementine started backwards before bolting, and snaked behind the dark cover of brush as Ava and two men rushed to David's side.

Ava's eyes were wide at the sight of David's face. "The fuck she do now?!" she hissed, gripping the back of her shaved head. "CLEMENTINE! CLEMENTINE, YOU HAVE TO ANSWER TO THIS!" she howled into the trees.

But it was no use.

Ava knew that damn girl wouldn't. Her chest ached for A.J, and Clementine. Her...friend. Her heart plummeted. "God, Clementine... Why can't you ever make things easy...?" Perhaps an ex-friend now. As David was supported, flanked by two hefty men who stumbled towards the camp, Ava was the only one left to linger in the clearing. She watched the trees for a moment, hoping to catch another silhouette. One with a base-ball cap.

And of course, there wasn't a chance.

**[1/2 Year Later]**

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

There was always a constant buzz that ran through her system. Daily. Nightly. Weekly. Monthly.

She might've not been completely sober, but Clementine felt strong with every breath she took.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Enough to kick down a maple tree by whacking its trunk.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

With every slam of her boot, the rotting tree trembled.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"Come _on,"_ Clementine hissed. She spared a glance towards the incoming semi. Its engine's roar was quite loud by that point, and Clementine swore she could smell the diesel gas from where she was. She had seen the headlights from down the road, around another pass. Which was only a few minutes ago. And she didn't have a few minutes now. In short, Clementine had to be quick.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Much, much quicker. "Come _on!"_

THUMP! THUMP!

The tree gave way, finally having enough with Clementine's unaccommodating kicks (couldn't a tree corpse just be a tree corpse like those walking-zombie-things?!). And the semi's scream of breaks weren't enough to save itself, just as Clementine schemed. The truck rammed itself into the tree until it was a wrangled mess. She didn't know if it was ever a beautiful thing, but from the way the shattered glass littered the road with bent metal and splintered pieces, she knew it wasn't a good fit now.

"Good fucking job, Clementine," she grouched. "The hell does it take to get a car in one piece?!" she added in a low hiss, jerking the shotgun in her arms in frustration. For a split moment, Clementine considered shooting another few bullets into the already-plundered walker beside her.

Though, Clementine kept quiet as two men stumbled out of the truck—shaken, but unharmed. She frowned and studied them. One of the men ran up large rocks and turned around at the other's call. And the other (he wore a stained baseball jersey) was bound by his hands and pointed a gun at the rocks. A few dreadful seconds went by without gunfire. Clementine smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

She crept around her hiding spot and held her shotgun tightly. As the man in the jersey sighed in defeat, having let the other guy go, Clementine held up the barrel to the small of his back. "Fuck..." he muttered. "Yeah, alright," he then added quietly, dropping his weapon.

"That's good. Now keep your head pointed that way," Clementine snapped. She snatched the free gun on the ground and pocketed it. "Now don't move, or I will shoot."

"I—"

"Unlike you, I'm not as nice. I wouldn't hesitate. Got it?"

"I— Yes, I surrender, okay?"

Clementine sighed. "I know you have. Couldn't shoot him, could you?" She began to search his small bag.

"He did nothing to me, okay?"

"No, no," she answered lazily, "I get it." Clementine pulled out a protein bar. "You're a good person and all that." A smile stretched across her lips as she held the first bar of chocolate for the first time in years. Or months. Weeks? No, no—months. It certainly _felt_ like yea—

"Hey, hey, not that!" The man abruptly pleaded, eyes wide and over his shoulder, "Please, it— It's for my niece. It's all she wants whenever we search for things. She loves chocolate more than anything... It's for her!"

_Shit._

Strangers weren't meant to make Clementine feel _guilty_. They were supposed to be quiet, or dead. Or quiet _and_ dead. Begrudgingly, she slot it back into his pocket. "You stay there," she ordered. The man frowned, and his head swiveled to finally get a good look at her.

"You're...a kid," he breathed.

She ignored him, and instead Clementine meandered around the truck, looking at the damage she caused. "Shit..." she hissed.

"Wait." The man, who definitely didn't listen to her order and was standing by the hood of the truck, asked, "Were you the one behind the tree?"

"Yeah." Clementine clambered into the truck and found an apple. Immediately, she bit into it, finding nothing else of value. (Though, an apple as fresh as this one was worth the hassle, she concluded.) And, oh _God_ this was a good apple. If she was alone, Clementine would've allowed herself to drool all over just for the satisfaction. As she munched, Clementine said, "I was tryin' to stop it."

"Well...you certainly did that."

"Oh, shut up." Clementine stood in front of him and looked straight into his eyes. He grew quiet (finally). The man blinked, rather perplexed by the hazel in her eyes, and Clementine only scowled and shrugged him off. She didn't care about how the man expected that look—the one of grit and fire—to come from an adult, not a kid. "Anyway, looks like we're done here. So go close your eyes and count to a hundred—"

"Wait no! Please, my family's out there. I just need to know where I am," he said, his hands thrusted forward in urgency. "We were driving down the 522 and went to this junkyard. We were attacked, and they're still there!"

Clementine watched him thoughtfully. "You...drove?"

"Uh, yes, in our van."

This might actually work out for her. She ate the last of the apple and threw the core away, then wiped her mouth. "I know where that is. I can help _if_ you hand over that van in return."

"The..." The man fell silent, debating. "Okay, fine, just...as long as they're safe. You have a deal."

She jerked her chin. "This way then." Obediently, he walked forward with Clementine right behind him. For a few minutes, she was able to get some rest from talking. She lazily held the shotgun in one hand as she fished for her side. With her eyes kept on the weird man, she sipped a little whiskey from the flask, refueling her buzz.

The man stumbled to the side as a walker popped out from the bushes. Casually, Clementine shoved the closed flask into his hands. "Hold that." With a long knife in her tight grasp, she booted the walker in the knee and felt the blade slice into its head. Satisfied, she tucked the knife away and snatched back the flask. He kept walking ahead once she nodded, stashing the drink.

"You're really good at that," he commented, dismissing the flask entirely. Clementine frowned and kept quiet; how was a hostage-turned-bound-guy-in-need complimenting her anyway? "Fine, you don't want to talk. But can I at least have my gun back?"

"Look. I don't know you, I don't trust you, and I'm _not _taking any chances."

"What?" The man raised his hands as he shrugged. "Can't I have a little chat...and my gun?"

"No."

"What?!"

Clementine rolled her eyes. "No!"

"What's with you? We can help each other, and I won't shoot—I promise. You don't have to be this lone wolf, you know."

"I've been handling myself pretty well for a while now," she retorted, "so I don't _need_ your help."

The man frowned to himself. "That's not a good life to live. Robbing people? I don't care if there's those _things_ walking around." Clementine worked her jaw. Now she was being chided. _Great._ "But I got that you don't need help. I'm the one who needs it." She felt another guilty itch nestle deep into her chest. He turned his head, barely looking over his shoulder. "And...I'm Javier, by the way. People call me Javi, though."

Shit. _Shit_. She wrestled with herself for a long second. "Clementine," she answered quietly.

Javier seemed almost taken aback. "That's, ah, a cool name, Clementine. It...suits you."

Clementine frowned. "No it doesn't. Now quit trying to kiss ass, I'm not getting you out of that yet—" From around the bend, both heard the groans of dozens of walkers. "_Shit."_

They ducked behind a few bushes by large rocks. She looked over them and groaned. The man, Javier, gave a worried sigh himself. "What? Is that— Oh, no, that's the herd that we ran into earlier."

"Come on." Javier followed Clementine towards the rocks, a temporary safe haven as she scoped out the area. His eyes followed hers, and he found what seemed to be a huge fortress with high walls, and lights—actual, powered, _lights—_around the edges. To his unasked question, Clementine murmured, "It's Prescott... We're going to have to stay there for a while until it clears out enough."

"I... Dammit." He glared at the gates, clustered with rotting corpses. "Muertos..."

"What?"

"Muertos." Javier looked at Clementine. "What do you call them?"

"Walkers."

"And the ones that run?"

Clementine stared at him, irritated. "They're just fucking walkers, okay?!" He chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing." She shook her head and released a long breath. "You haven't talked to another person in a while, have you?"

"...what's that got to do with anything?"

"Oh, you know," he muttered, "it's obvious, especially since I _still-can't-move-my-fuckin'-hands."_ Javier stretched them towards her. "Come on, _please_, Clementine, I know you have a heart in there somewhere!"

"We just met!"

"_Get me out!"_

Clementine stood up, holding her knife. "I am, okay? And holy shit, keep your voice down!" With his binds finally torn away, Javier grinned. Clementine forced his pistol in his hands. "Now come on, we need to move." Javier nodded and followed suit. Their first few strides were careful, yet punctuated. And then, at the foot of the white light, they saw the gat shudder. Clementine lurched forward with springs at her heels. "Get to the gate!" she yelled. Javier sprinted after Clementine, blinking in the bright light. She cleared their path with the spray of her shotgun. As they charged towards the gate, it closed at their feet. "Come on, open up!" she bellowed, slamming her fists against the monstrous metal doors.

"Yeah, come on! We're stuck out here!" Javier twisted around, gun poised. He never thought he'd be between muertos and the walls of a _compound—_a rock and a hard place would've been easier, he thought. The muerto he aimed for was shot square in the forehead, and then the one right behind it.

Clementine and Javier looked up briefly once a shadow flickered the white light. "You'll have to clear them off! There's too many, and I can't risk it!" a man shouted down, his shadow surrounded by the blinding light.

Javier nodded, firing away. Clementine's shotgun howled as she knocked their heads off of their shoulders; Javier was impressed she wasn't flung back by the force of that thing. Meanwhile, Clementine _wasn't_ impressed by its lack of bullets, so she chucked it to the side and pulled out her pistol. She pulled the trigger, and the gun barely spat air at the incoming walker. "_Fuck_, these bullets won't fire!" she hissed.

She grunted as the walker closed in on her, holding its head and shoulders far away from her face. Javier was quick to shoot it in the shoulder, enabling Clementine to send it to the ground and stomp its head in. Both were ecstatic when the gate creaked open behind them, the man firing from inside. He shouted for them to move. Clementine and Javier both rushed inside (not before the former could snatch back the shotgun), being nearly trampled by what turned out to be a rider on a horse (they had only seen a flash of brown).

"God dammit, Francine!" the man snapped. The woman on the horse slowed to a halt and eyed him with a mischievous glint. "One of these days, the gates are going to close, and you'll be on the other side!"

"And when that happens, you're the first one I'm going to bite," she promised with a wave of her hand.

The man shook his head, folding his arms across his broad shoulders. "Anyway, Clementine right?" he asked, turning around. He was intimidating enough with his strong jaw and intense eyes, which had Javier more nervous of _Clementine_ who stood toe-to-toe to the man as if she was twice his size. "You stayin' here for long?"

"No," she answered, jerking her chin towards Javier. "I have to drop him off this junkyard. We're leaving once the walkers clear."

"Yeah," Javier said, worry in his voice, "my family are stuck there with _really_ bad people."

The man looked at him, sympathetic. "I'm sorry to hear that. The herd came in an hour or two ago out of nowhere. I'm thinkin' they might clear by the time it's morning." He unfolded his arms and set his hands on his hips. "I'm Tripp, by the way, and you're all welcome here as long as the two of you stay out of trouble. We're not too gentle with the ones who do."

Javier raised his hands. "I'm not the one you should be worried about."

Clementine rolled her eyes as Tripp turned his attention to her. "You know the score 'round here, Clementine. Don't make me want to pick you up and throw you the fuck out, or I'll pick you up and throw you the fuck out. My boots weigh more than you."

"I got it," Clementine answered.

"Well then, go and do whatever. I got shit to do," Tripp said, leaving their side.

Clementine sighed and looked to Javier. "Well, welcome to Prescott." As the secondary gates opened, they strolled through. "It's actually a cool place—built on an air strip I think." And indeed it was. Everywhere Javier looked, there were soft lights hung around, metal sheets and wood fashioned into small buildings, and towering structures that he assumed were used before the days of the muertos. "The people though...not so much." Javier's eyes wandered, catching sight of many shrouded figures who lurked in the shadows. He shivered. And as Javier heard the gate close, he turned around. Clementine watched him softly. "Um...what's wrong, Javi?"

"Oh...it's just... My family. They're still out there."

She shifted in place somewhat guiltily; it wasn't like she _knew _how to approach this. "W-Well, I mean, if they survived for this long, they know how to keep themselves safe, right?"

"Yeah, I hope so."

Clementine stood while Javier slowly turned back around, his eyes kept to the dirt. "How about a drink, then? There's a bar, and I need to see someone in there about some bullets anyway," she offered, the last fraction of her sentence low.

Javier nodded and followed. Like the majority of the other buildings, it was fashioned from an aircraft—this one a carrier, by the size of it. Or one of the ones pilots used for fuel during flight. And, immediately, when he set foot in the bar, Javier felt himself go back in time. "Whoa... I haven't been in a place like this since...before everything."

"Yeah, it's usually quiet whenever I do some business here. I usually don't stay in Prescott for long, though."

Javier and Clementine both rested their arms against the bar, releasing a sigh in unison. They took a shot from the small platter between them (marked with a _Free!_ sign posted in the middle by a wooden stick). "For not dying?"

Clementine paused, having almost drained it. She nodded, and their glasses clinked. The pair mirrored one another, wolfing the shot down for all it was worth. Both grimaced—Clementine's expression being far more animated. Javier laughed softly as she set the shot glass down and wheezed, pushing away from the bar and coughing to the floor. "Yeah," he murmured, "that's not water there."

Clementine half-heartedly glared at him, her arms still stretched between her shoulders and the counter. "I know... It was disgusting. That's it."

"_Sure,"_ Javier teased.

Heartful chuckles came from the side. Both turned to the bar tender who held a handful of cards over the counter with the woman from before—Francine, he believed; instead of the youthful jeer she wore at the gate, Francine was wearing a concentrated furrow of the brow as she stared at her hand. "Yeah, there's a reason why they're all grape, Clementine," he said, leaning against his palm casually. "It's supposed to be pest repellant."

Clementine rolled her eyes lazily and sipped on her flask before stashing it away, out of sight. "Yeah, whatever," she mumbled, waving her hand dismissively. Clementine stood upright and said to Javier, "Enjoy making new friends. I have something to do."

As she left his side, the bar tender continued: "Yeah, she actually handles her drink well, I tell you. Hell, Clementine even has an eye for them."

Javier looked over his shoulder towards where he heard clips of her voice with another man. From what he could tell, they didn't sound like friends. "So...the flask?"

The bar tender shrugged. "Oh, it's filled with something. I don't know what it is," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if it gave her the short fuse she has."

Javier grumbled to himself quietly: "'Definitely not water,' huh."

Francine hissed, eyes narrowed at the cards she held. "Yeah," she agreed pointedly, "most of the drinks here are either made—they're...not that great to be honest."

"It's a process," the bar tender said with a shrug.

"You can say that all you want, Conrad, but they ain't ever gonna be good."

"Oh shut your mouth and just play your hand already."

Ignoring him, she continued and said, "_Anyway_, she sometimes gathers supplies to trade with us here, and I swear, she would be a damn good resource for the booze here if she didn't drink it all."

Javier—who, by this point, very much so understood that Clementine _definitely_ knew what vodka was before drinking it—was surprised; "How? She can't be much older than my nephew! He barely knows anything about the stuff." Then again, Gabe knew far more about weed than any alcohol. Javier didn't mention that. The couple (and Javier assumed so based on the look they shared) shrugged. "How much does she drink, exactly?"

"For all we know," Conrad said, "you talk to her, and she might not be completely sober."

"La hostia..." Javier jumped slightly as the woman elbowed him.

"Hey," Francine whispered, "what do you think?" She showed him the cards. "Think I should raise?"

"Good lord, Francine! First you take ten minutes debating on one move, and now you're asking for help?!" Conrad asked with a gleeful smile. He was going to win, for sure.

Javier shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't gamble anymore..."

Francine hummed as Conrad watched him carefully. "Now, I thought I recognized you. Javier García, am I right? I'm sorry about that lifetime ban. Overkill for having a little fun. Shouldn't have ruined your twenty-year career."

Javier shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah...I mean..." He shrugged. "It's not like that shit matters anymore."

"You got that right."

Francine smiled to herself and giggled. The two men rose a brow. "Well then, I think you're bullshitting. Put down your cards." Begrudgingly, he did with hers set on the table.

"God dammit," he grumbled as Francine cheered. "I'm gonna run out of business at this rate!"

"Oh like anybody cares about money anymore," she laughed. "And besides, Clementine and I are the most business you got."

In the distance, a voice rose: "Don't turn away from me, I'm talking to you!"

"Speaking of the devil," Francine murmured.

"Ah shit." Javier muttered, "I'll be back."

He found them within a small, cozy room inside what looked like a small plane's shell. As he walked over, Javier heard more of the argument: "Look, missy. A deal is a deal, alright? You gave me batteries, and I gave you bullets. Simple as that."

"What's going on here?" Javier asked, looking between Clementine and the balding man in a velvet armchair.

Clementine fiercely glared at the man, fists clenching. "_He_ ripped me off! I traded him perfectly good batteries for bullets that won't fire! He could have gotten us _killed!"_

Javier folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. The man continued to lounge. His eyes drawled towards Javier. "What, you her body-guard or some shit?"

As an answer, he shrugged and said, "She doesn't really need one."

"Come on, just give me what I'm owed!"

"Look, I already told you, it's a no."

He went silent once Clementine pulled out her gun. "Whoa, Clem... Take it easy."

"Look at him, he's not even nervous!" Clementine snapped. She pulled the trigger; once again, the gun failed. The man stared at her, now _definitely_ nervous. He swallowed. "He knows they don't fire!"

The man huffed, through with her. He got to his feet and pulled out a long blade that caught the dim light violently. No time had passed. Immediately, Javier stepped in between the both of them, grunting as he felt it slice through his brow. He blinked. His temple stung, and blood dripped down his face. The two men battled for the edge. Teeth snapped. Lips sneered. Javier, though, ultimately won. The knife was dropped to the floor, and the man kept himself to his chair with a tremor.

Clementine hissed, "Now give me what I'm owed!"

"I-I'll give you batteries, okay? Just...we were all out of line. Alright? We—" Clementine stepped forward, her pistol pointed towards his gut. His eyes widened. "Would you take control of her?! You got to put a handle on that, man!" the man pleaded with Javier.

Javier shook his head and crossed his arms. He definitely felt the sting above his eye, and the blood dripping was now a waterfall. "I'm not her body-guard, I've already told you!"

The man turned back to Clementine. "Please, I'll give you batteries. New—_real_ new! Okay?" he asked again.

"No! I don't need batteries, I need bullets that won't get me kill—" The blast that Clementine had earlier wished to aid her rang in her ears abruptly. She blinked, stunned, at the man in the chair. His eyes were lolled back into his head, a crater in his forehead erupting blood. "Oh no... No, no, no..." she whispered. Clementine whipped around as the bar went silent. "Javi, he attacked us, okay?! He pulled out his knife and—"

"What the hell are you doin'—" Conrad's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the sight of the man. He raised his rifle. "Now what the _fuck_ y'all doin'?!"

"He attacked us, okay?! It was in self-defense!" Clementine said quickly.

Her throat closed as heavy boots stomped through the bar and around the corner. "Now what the fuck are you shooting a gun when there's a herd out—" His eyes followed the small crowd's stare. "What the fuck happened here?!"

"He attacked us, reached for his gun and—"

"Enough from you!" Tripp interrupted. His eyes met Javier's. "Is this true?"

Javier, without missing a beat, answered, "Yes, do you see my eye man?! He was a fuckin' maniac!" Clementine looked at him, surprised.

Tripp looked at him, annoyed. He crossed his arms and stared at the two for a long, livid minute. "Couldn't last an hour, could you?" he stewed. "Well now…we'll see what _I'll_ do."

**[. . .]**

Tripp walked away, leaving Javier and Clementine jailed within the small cage. On the side of the dirt road that ran through Prescott. Out with the creepy people in the shadows along the way. Where the lights were the best (probably to keep an eye on them). With his hands on his hips, Javier looked around. "Hey...it's not _that_ bad. Still got a roof over our heads if it rains."

Clementine, who sat down in the corner, eyed the chicken-wire for walls. "And if it floods?" Javier didn't answer. She held her arms, cross-legged, and said, "But...thanks for covering for me. That was, uh, really cool of you."

Javier sat on a small bench. "No problem. We're a team, right?"

She chuckled quietly. "Yeah...thanks. But, I really do hope you know that doesn't make us friends."

Javier drew his eyes to the ground, somewhat disappointed. They were quickly torn towards the door once a woman stepped in. He was momentarily in awe by her beauty, noting her dough eyes and beauty mark on her cheek. She shook her head with a polite smile. "Why is it that the pretty ones are always the ones who get in trouble?"

Javier smirked and shrugged. "I dunno. Takes one to know one."

The woman smiled, her eyes sliding towards Clementine. In the corner, she held her flask, unscrewing it. "What, you gonna tell me I'm pretty too?"

With a straight face, the woman answered, "No, Clementine."

"_Okay_, Eleanor."

As the woman got out her cleaning supplies, she said, "Well, as you can probably tell, I'm Eleanor. You can call me Elle, though."

"Oh? I'm Javi then," he said with a grin. He winced as she cleaned his wound—which was why she was there, no? Instead of just being…pretty? "So you're the doc around here?"

"Of sorts," Eleanor answered. "I'm not an official one, but I'm the closest thing to it around here." She began to patch him up, setting the alcohol down. "What brings _you_ here? Never seen _your_ face around before now."

Javier's grin faltered. "My family. We were attacked and I got separated. Ran into Clementine over there and, well, the rest is history."

"Oh, god. I know how it's like with family," she murmured solemnly. "I wish I can do more."

"You're already doing all of this for me, it's fine, honest."

She smiled. "For you, maybe."

"_Blech."_

Eleanor closed her eyes and exhaled, then scowled. Clementine, having sipped on her flask, said with a shit-eating grin, "Oh, I'm sorry. There was something disgusting in my whiskey—"

"Just let the adults talk, sweetie."

"—and it was you."

Eleanor was irked, to say the least. She ignored Clementine as she snorted herself into a laugh. "Sometimes I don't understand that girl... You know?"

"Well...I only met her today? She's..." Javier's shoulders hugged his neck. "Not bad."

Shaking her head, Eleanor murmured, "I don't know. There's something in her eyes that I don't like..." She thought for a moment. "Some say she killed Eli in cold blood. Did she?"

Javier sighed. "No. Things just...got out of hand. She was trying to prove a point and things got messy, I got stabbed. And Eli..."

"Got shot right in the head." Eleanor stood up. "Right. But...with your family, if there's anything—"

"You're fine, Elle. You don't need to trouble yourself."

She bowed her head as she strode out, side-stepping around the cage as Tripp marched his way over. "Hey, I see you got that checked out."

"Yeah."

Clementine got to her feet and leaned up against the side. He eyed the two of them through the chicken-wire. "Now I've decided that you two shit-bags are going to stay in there until the morning. I have a truck, and we can leave to get your folks." He pointed at Clementine. "And _you_ out."

"Really? Thanks," Javier said graciously.

Tripp nodded. Eleanor piped up: "I'll go."

"No, you're staying right here!" Tripp snapped quickly.

"What?! You can't just let me stay! They might need medical attention, Tripp!"

"And I don't want you hurt again!"

Eleanor crossed her arms. "That's not your call to make!"

Tripp threw his arms up. "You're not coming. End of story." He swiveled his attention back to the cage. "And you're spending the night here!"

He stormed away, leaving Eleanor to stare at the ground, brows furrowed. "God, he can be an ass. But..." She exhaled softly. "He does care though, you know? About the people here?" Eleanor chewed her lip, an idea forming. "Hey, there might be a way we can get you...two...out of here sooner. From the back."

"Right now?" Javier asked eagerly.

"We'd be away from the walkers by the front," she said.

"But...the rest of the herd. The muertos."

Eleanor's lips formed a gentle smile as she backed away. "I have to take care of a few patients, but let me know if you want to soon, okay?"

Both prisoners watched Eleanor as she walked through Prescott on the other side of the road. And, incidentally, both of their gazes dropped lower, lingering underneath Eleanor's belt before she was completely out of sight. "Wow... She's... She's really somethin'," Javier murmured.

"I didn't know she had it in her," Clementine said. She turned away with a scowl, her cheeks dusted with a subtle pink. With her eyes on Javier, she added, "But listen, Javi. I trust Tripp more than her. I don't think we should take that offer."

Javier nodded slowly. "Yeah. With all those muertos around, it'd be better to have more brawn."

Clementine settled on the bench, stretching across it. "Right. At least you're reasonable."

Javier sat down beside the bench, rubbing his forehead. He leaned back and yawned, "You know something, Clementine?"

"And what's that?"

"I think you're a...a trustworthy—" he yawned again— "person."

She suddenly felt small and powerless. "Oh..." Clementine swallowed. "Thanks." Javier didn't answer, dozing away already. Clementine laid on the bench, eyes down to the ground and hands folded under her head. Her head spun.

In cold blood... In _cold_ blood...

Clementine may never be caught a minute sober any longer, and her head never as clear as it ought to be, but she knew well enough how uneasy that sat with her. There would be a time to drink it away. Just like any other horrible thing.

**[. . .]**

"Shhh… Shhh… It's okay, A.J. It's okay…"

In that shed, surrounded by the groans of the walkers—clicking and clacking-, Clementine held A.J close. His choked cries quieted, and she smiled. "There we go," she breathed as she set him down on a fold-out bed. "Now…"

A.J gave a cry out of surprise and slapped his hands over his mouth, his wide eyes were to the door, and Clementine turned around. The walkers were swarming to the other side. She frowned, and her skin prickled. There was someone out—

A silhouette startled the pair as it reached the door. "Son of a bitch!" the woman snapped, jiggling the door handle.

"…dammit," Clementine hissed under her breath, her hand clasped around her Glock's handle. "Stay quiet, A.J," she whispered with a hand held out. A.J only whimpered.

"Hey! I can hear you in there!" Clementine, frazzled, watched A.J as he coughed, hands hovering over his mouth. "C-Can you help me please?! _God,_ there's so many!"

Clementine's attention swiveled back-and-forth, and her grip tightened around the pistol's handle.

"Please!" The woman grunted as she heaved her weight into the door—the boards across its frame broken, and the lock weak. "Don't leave me out here!" Clementine stood erect once the door was slammed open, then back closed within a panicked motion.

Immediately, Clementine guarded A.J, her pistol aimed and ready to put a bullet through the woman's shaved head—into the deep scar that ran across the cranium, if she could manage.

The woman's eyes widened, and she hissed, rather tiredly, "Oh, shit…" She swallowed, and managed, "Hey there."

Clementine narrowed her eyes and grumbled, from over the pistol, "…hello."

The door shuddered, though the pistol didn't leave the woman's head. "Look, you can keep that thing pointed at me if it makes you feel any better, but if you shoot me, you'll have to deal with all of _them!"_

Clementine reconsidered. It was a reasonable point.

She growled and shunted the gun back in its holster, and darted to the woman's side. Together, they threw their weight into the door. As they battled for the edge against the walkers, who continuously rattled the thing off its hinges, the woman quickly twisted around and snatched the side of a bookshelf. "Alright! Get out of the way!" she said, throwing her head from the door.

Clementine backed off, and the bookshelf was turned over with a slam. They watched the door for a moment, then released a sigh of relief in unison. As Clementine strode back to A.J, who was whimpering and reaching for her, the woman collapsed onto the pile of blankets and pillows that was heaped on the other side.

"You and I make a great team," the woman breathed. She lifted her head and noticed A.J. "Well, the three of us, I mean."

Clementine blinked. "Uh, thanks…I guess."

"No problem, kiddo," the woman mused. "If you ever need an over-sized doorstop, you know who to call. Or, well, _find."_ Clementine gave the barest nod. "He's a pretty cute kid… So you two live in here? Seem pretty young to be a mom. What are you, thirteen?"

_Why so many damn questions? _Clementine sighed as the woman got up and strode over. "I didn't give _birth_ to him, if that's what you mean. And why do you care?"

"Look I—" She exhaled softly and rested on her knee. "I didn't mean to pry…" The woman paused, then explained, "We were out there scouting—nothing out of the ordinary, and then—" She shook her head, and Clementine arched a brow. "O-Out of the ordinary, and then— Chaos and— _Shit." _She scratched her head and traced the deep scar along her head. The woman started again, almost flustered by her tic: "Those bastards are slow, but God damn it, when there's enough of them…"

That, Clementine could agree with. Not that she actually said anything.

"I got separated from the others. …_God,_ I hope they all made it. Thought we were ready for anything, but we were surrounded before we saw them."

Clementine, who waved off her emotional curiosity, asked, "What were you searching for anyway?"

"Gas, water… Any supplies we can find, really. We're runners—or, well, I'm a bit higher up, though this was new territory…so…" The woman scowled. "Sure as well wasn't worth it today." She got to her feet and said, "My people are probably at the rendezvous by now—or what's left of them, at least." Clementine mirrored her, with A.J in her arms.

The woman turned around with a gentle grin hitched, and she said, "Oh, and I'm Ava, by the way. And my group, —" she pulled up her sleeve, and on her wrist was a branded, red sigil— "we call ourselves the New Frontier."

Before Clementine could brush her off quietly, A.J sputtered and began to cry. She frowned and turned away. "He's hungry…" Clementine said, brushing this Ava off _with_ words.

Ava, however, seemed to brighten. "Hey, why don't you come with me? Meet my people?" Clementine watched her from over her shoulder. "We have food, blankets, bottled water…" Ava assured. Clementine stared, crouched beside the bed with A.J coughing and sniffing. "C'mon," Ava said, her voice (admittedly) a comfort," dinner's on me. I owe you one."

Clementine grimaced, and she slowly stood up. An old pain struck her then. She grumbled, albeit apologetically, "Groups…really aren't my thing."

"'No woman's an island,'" Ava said with a light grin.

_Oh…my god. _Clementine rolled her eyes. How can you make an apocalypse _awkward?_

Ava laughed, however, and shrugged. "Have it your way… You did me a solid here, and I won't forget it the next time we cross paths."

"There is no 'next time,'" Clementine scowled.

"We'll see," Ava hummed. "The world does work in mysterious ways." She wandered back to the blankets and rested herself against the wall while Clementine to A.J's side. Clementine watched Ava suspiciously, chewing the inside of her cheek.

For her sake, she hoped the world wasn't _that_ mysterious…

_And what the hell does woman island none mean anyway?!_

**[. . .]**

"So, in five then?"

Javier watched Tripp as the man stared into the cage, eyes on the bench. Tripp exhaled, arms folded. "Make that ten," he grumbled. "Has she stirred or...anything?"

"No, she's been out," Javier answered.

"Well, you better get her up, or I'm just going to have her lay on the hood until we get there."

As Tripp walked away dutifully, Javier went back to what he had been doing before: punching Clementine's arm. "Come on, dormilona, get _up._" She didn't move. And now that he thought of it, the only reason why Javier knew she wasn't dead was the fact she hadn't turned. "Come on. mija, let's go." He slapped her cheek and quickly backed away, grimacing for the impact. He didn't feel anything. Javier opened one eye. He slacked his raised arms.

Nothing.

"Clementine, it's..." Javier paused. She did move. Her eyebrows twitched to a frown, then further deepened with fear and discomfort. Javier couldn't understand the words she slurred, her body trembling. "...dormilona? Clem?"

The tremors were becoming more exaggerated, and Javier didn't know what do to. "N-No..." she whispered.

"You have to. We're leaving soon, Clementine," he replied, not exactly confident if Clementine was anywhere close to being conscious.

"L-Lee... Lee, I can't do this..." He froze. Javier saw the beads of cold sweat along the edge of her hairline. "Not...not again..."

Something terrible swam in Javier's gut. He didn't know what he was a witness to, but he sure as hell knew that this wasn't his to see. "Clementine," he murmured softly, "we...have to move." Comfortingly, he put his hand on her shoulder and rubbed.

Her eyes snapped open.

Javier was slammed against the cage without warning, her knife pointed at his Adam's apple. He barely felt the blade tremble against his throat while Clementine controlled her breathing—or, rather, tried to. Javier stared into her eyes with shock. What he saw were the cracks of her sobriety within drunken hellfire. Her breath was shaken: "Oh my god." Clementine stumbled backwards, dropping the knife onto the ground, slacked on the bench.

Her hand grasped her hip, and soon the contents of the flask was inhaled. Her sip was triple the amount of the usual; if Clementine had any sleep the night prior, the first hit of whiskey was always the most.

Javier saw a reflection of his younger self. From the way she sat on the bench, alone, to her hand on her forehead and the drink in the other. Slowly, he asked, "Were you...?"

"I just... When I sleep, I get these memor— _Dreams_, I get these dreams that..."

Javier didn't call her out on her lie. Instead, he sat beside her. The tension in her body uncoiled when he did, allowing Clementine to slip the flask away. "Tripp is going to come get us in a few minutes."

Clementine nodded, breathing in. The youthful fire Javier came to know replaced her broken tone: "He better. I want my shit back."

**[. . .]**

"For the fifth-fucking-time, I'm not giving you back that shotgun!"

Clementine, who sat in the back of the truck, sputtered. Bitingly, she said, "But that wasn't even the one that—"

"Yeah! You have that pistol for _surviving!_ You're lucky I even gave you back that _murder_ weapon! Now fucking pipe your ass down so I don't have to hear you talk the rest of the way there!" From the back seat, Clementine grumbled to herself and flipped him off.

Tripp clenched his jaw as Javier laughed. "Well, you _did_ tell her to be quiet."

"Whatever." Tripp kept his eyes to the road, his expression then relaxed. "Now I know that I offered to do this, and all, but you mind explainin' why Eleanor vouched for you two shits?"

Javier shrugged. "She's a good person. And I'm not complaining either way."

Tripp nodded. "Yeah, she's got a heart of gold. Big reason why she's real good as our nurse." His blue eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. "Clementine, there a problem with your hand?"

She hoisted her gaze up, surprised. "Oh," Clementine muttered, rubbing the end of a nub for a finger. "It's nothing."

Javier turned around and asked, "When did that happen?"

"A while ago." Clementine wiggled it, and she still imagined the finger whole again. "It broke, and I couldn't realign it so...I cut it off."

"Jesus," Tripp breathed. "Who knew you were such a hard-ass?" He turned around the bend. "Now are we there yet?"

"Yeah, are we?"

Clementine nodded. "It's right— Shit."

Tripp eased the truck to a halt and stared at the junkyard with wide eyes. "Where's that smoke coming from?"

"I don't know. It wasn't there yesterday," Javier said, worried. "Come on!" They barely felt the ground as they ran from the truck, leaving the doors wide open. Clementine could smell the gasoline from the other side of the junkyard's gates. "Mariana? Gabriel? Kate?!" Javier halted at the entrance.

"What the hell...?" Tripp breathed, prodding a dead walker with his boot.

"There's dozens of them," Clementine said, analyzing the scattered bodies of rotting corpses.

Javier spotted something in the rubble beside a walker still groaning. He picked up a tool from the ground and bashed it against its head. Once satisfied that the walker was dealt with, Javier picked up an MP3 player. "This is Mariana's..." He jogged through the gates, followed by Tripp and Clementine. "Mariana? Are you here?"

"Javi!"

Delight sprang across his face. Javier turned to the left and embraced his niece as she hopped into his arms. "I hid in the bus like you said! Once the muertos didn't notice me, they just forgot and passed by!"

"I'm so glad you're safe!" he said joyfully. "You did exactly what I told you to do." Mariana grinned, and her eyes briefly switched to Tripp and Clementine. Javier followed her gaze. "They came to help us," he assured with a gesture.

"Thank-you!" Mariana said. Tripp nodded while Clementine murmured quietly.

Javier got to his feet, once again worried. "Where is Kate and Gabe?"

Mariana shook her head, her smile wiped clean. "I don't know. We got separated. I think they might be in the van." Javier briskly walked forward around a corner, and immediately his shoulders slacked.

"Oh...no." He turned to Clementine apologetically. At the sight of the van with its smoking engine, she sighed. At the very least, they knew what was the source of the fire, and what gasoline was burning. "The van..."

"It's fine. It's not like you knew it was going to happen," she muttered with the additional, "but we still have that deal."

"Yeah, right."

Clementine waved her hand. "That's not important right now. You have other people out here, right?" Javier bobbed his head and began his search. The four of them strode behind him, eyes wide and alert.

Mariana walked beside Clementine, sharing a smile. All at once, Clementine felt terrible knowing she was about to steal her chocolate. "Hey." Clementine blinked and turned back to her. Mariana grinned innocently, dimples creasing her cheeks. "You have really pretty eyes."

_God dammit._ Clementine felt a rush of warmth like she never had before. Embarrassment was one thing, though this...? Was this because she hadn't talked to people in so long? "Oh, um...thank-you." Clementine's blush spread, a fire scorching the middle of her back. "You...um... You're pretty."

"Thanks," Mariana said simply. Clementine glanced at her again, now feeling like _shit_knowing she was about to steal her chocolate. And giddy. Strangely, Mariana's compliment burrowed itself in her chest, erupting giddy tremors to her stomach. Clementine didn't know if she liked it or not.

A horn interrupted her train of thought. Mariana brightened. "That's them, Uncle Javi!"

"We're just going to have to see," he said. "Come on. And stay _behind_ me."

"Okay." Mariana didn't disobey. She remained protected behind Javier and Tripp, and her gaze continued to wander towards Clementine (and her gun) as she kept beside her. Once again, they shared a smile, Clementine feeling her cheeks grow warmer. She felt all-powerful. Like she could chuck her flask away. Kill a herd of walkers. Rule the world, even.

Or, well, a settlement.

"Oh great," Clementine sighed. In unison, Tripp, Javier and Clementine handled the small gathering of walkers as they continued to relentlessly attack the doors of a semi. And inside, the source of the honking, were two people. From what Clementine could tell, a woman, and a boy around her age with a beanie. The walkers were quickly dealt with, and thus the two trapped in the truck were able to scramble out.

Clementine stepped to the side with Tripp as the siblings embraced each other. Meanwhile, the woman—Kate, Clementine assumed—and Javier shared a deep, abrupt kiss.

"Ech," Mariana groaned.

"Oh I think we're entitled to that," Javier murmured as Mariana shook her head softly.

The woman looked at Clementine curiously. "Who's...this girl with the gun? And the knife?"

Javier smiled happily. "Clementine, she's...my friend."

Clementine felt small. "Oh, um...hi."

"Hi." The woman grinned. "I'm Kate, and this is Gabe." The boy smiled bashfully, avoiding Clementine's eyes. "And I see you already met Mari."

For a few minutes, they made their acquaintances before Tripp folded his arms and cleared his throat, without an introduction; "Come on, let's head out of here and get back to Prescott," he said.

"I'm definitely not going to say otherwise," Javier replied. Reunited with his family, Javier beamed and walked with Tripp.

Meanwhile, Clementine strode towards the side, distancing herself. She was glad, however, when Mariana joined her. "So what's your name? Clementine?"

"Yup." Why did she feel so dumb? It _was_ an honest answer!

Mariana grinned. "That's pretty too!"

"Oh, and...so's yours."

Clementine turned away briefly to overhear Javier: "Don't jinx it. Let's just get back to Prescott, and then we'll celebrate."

"Well, there are things to cheer about, you know?"

Clementine slowed to a halt once she saw the entrance of the junkyard. Something didn't sit well. Her skin prickled, and her eyes searched instinctively. Another feeling—far from giddiness—irked her. She swallowed, and Clementine scanned the trees. Javier joined her just as Mariana gasped happily from behind. She darted past them eagerly.

Javier murmured, "What is it?"

"I...don't know—"

"Cool!" Mariana picked up a pair of headphones and turned around. Javier grinned, handing her the MP3 player. Her smile grew. "Thanks!"

A shot fired from the trees.

Clementine felt the sinister realization prickle throughout her skin. Mariana's body hit the ground, her face painted mid-shock. The bullets that stormed the air were barely heard. The shouts from the trees across the road were distant. She threw herself into cover, her heart thumping behind her ears. Her eyes were kept on Mariana for a long moment. Especially the hole that didn't belong in her head. She could almost see through it—to the dirt and rubble underneath the girl.

Then, clarity struck.

Clementine sneered violently, arming her pistol before firing into the trees. One man was forced to the ground by her hand. The family screamed behind her, and she wrenched her attention back. "Fucking _hell,"_ she snarled once she saw Kate on the ground, clutching her side. "Javi, no!"

Javier dove forward in unison with Gabe, shoving Kate out of the line of fire. Clementine shook her head and fired three more shots, two hitting their targets. She ducked to the barrels covering the three. "Oh God, Kate," Gabe gasped. "We have to get out of here!"

Tripp, who planted himself into the abandoned bus' side, agreed: "Yeah, come on! We have to move it before we're all fuckin' killed!"

Anger boiled Clementine. "No!" She got Javier's attention. "We can stay here and fight! If we leave them, they will come after you again!"

"I've already made up my mind," Javier said. "You go ahead! We'll cover you!"

"Javi!" Gabe snapped. "But you'll—"

"Don't worry about me, just go!" Javier barked. Clementine nodded in appreciation, firing into the trees once again with her new…friend by her side. With Javier, Clementine was left in the midst of chaos as the rest darted to the truck.

Her buzz fueled the beastly fire in her eyes. It made her stronger. It made her harder to hit. With each minute that blitz by, the more likely it was that her bullets made their mark.

**[. . .]**

The afternoon sun breathed down her neck as she dug. Her ears still rang from the hour prior. Clementine, with a final scoop of dirt, gasped, tossing the shovel away. With heavy breaths, she grimly looked at her handiwork. It didn't take long afterwards for her to cross the road and find Javier picking himself up. His hands trembled, and he croaked out a breath. Javier rubbed his forehead. "What...happened...?" he asked weakly.

His eyes travelled to Mariana's body. Clementine felt his heart shatter in his gaze. "Oh, Mari..." He crawled towards her, and brought her into his arms. "Mari...you deserved better than this. You deserved so much better..." Javier turned his head as Clementine stepped behind him.

"I...dug her a grave."

Javier's eyes watered. "You didn't have to... Thank-you, Clem."

Clementine held her arms and nodded. "It's across the street, by the trees."

He didn't speak. Javier followed Clementine with Mariana carefully held in his arms, just like how he'd used to cradle her when she was far, far younger in a world far, far less cruel. At the dug hole, he stepped inside and placed her down. He crossed her arms, tucking her headset and MP3 player in her hands. Javier then took one final look in her eyes, shuddered a breath, and closed them.

He climbed out of Mariana's grave and stood beside Clementine. "I'm...so sorry, Mariana. You deserved no right living in a world like this. And, you... You are loved." Javier cried into his hand, wiping his tears away. Clementine remained respectfully silent as she handed him the shovel.

Javier went right to work, covering his niece with the fresh soil that laid beneath the dying grass. And before he knew it, before he wanted to finish, Javier was. He set the shovel down carefully, his sorrow slowly replaced by his fury once more. "I'm going to find them for you, Mari. And I'm going to make them pay."

Clementine turned her ear to the groans by a freshly abandoned car. She had heard them before, but they were easy to ignore with each heave of the shovel. "Javi..." She walked to the car, glaring at the walker that laid against it. Javier felt his teeth grit, and his hand clasped around his gun. He pointed the pistol at the walker, whose face was far more human than monster. It reached for Javier and its second chance to kill him.

Javier couldn't do it. His arm faltered. His emotions captured him.

He lowered his gun and looked away. Clementine didn't hesitate. She executed the walker, and the head pinged off of the car door as the bullet was shot through. "I'm sorry," Javier breathed. "I couldn't... I couldn't do it. Not with it looking at me like—"

"I know." Clementine kicked the walker out of the way. Its body slumped over, allowing her to open the car door and find the keys still in the ignition. "Hey, they have a car we can take."

"So our deal is up then?"

Clementine scratched the back of her neck, guilt once again itching her. "I... Look, I can drop you back off to Prescott, and then I'm out of here."

"Oh."

She swayed on the balls of her feet. "I...um..." Clementine cleared her throat. "I mean...I still want a shotgun so, you know, I'll probably, maybe, have some business there still..."

Javier watched her, his eyes kind. And while his smile was barely one, he said, "I knew you'd want to stick around for a while."

"Just for a day or two, okay?" Clementine replied softly. "Then...then I'm gone."

"Alright." His eyes trailed to the muerto, lingering on... What was that? "Oh, Clementine, there's a mark on this guy's neck...? Do you—"

"What?" She walked over. Her eyes landed on the branded sigil. Clementine froze. "Oh _fuck."_

"What is it?"

If they knew she was there…Mariana's death—it could've been her fault. That sweet girl. Her smile and words. Clementine sighed deeply. "These people...I know the group they were a part of." Javier's eyes widened. "The New Frontier, or, at least, that's what they call themselves. I...got stuck at their camp for a while." She frowned, jaw clenched. "Captured. And, supposedly, they...started off good people but now...there's just corruption."

"What...?! Do you know where they are?!"

"Javi!" He backed off, defeated. "I know you want to go after them, but here's the thing: why do you think I want out of this place?!"

"You're running from them?"

"More like avoiding," Clementine said. Javier stared at the dead walker. "I know how these people are, and you know too. They aren't good... Once we get to Prescott and Kate is better, you need to leave. With—" She was going to shoot herself in the foot willingly. Maybe Javier was a bad influence, or too good for her. "With or without me."

He blinked, caught off-guard. But as quick as his surprise came, it left. Javier bobbed his head in agreement. "I... Right, okay. Okay." He opened the car door. "Then...okay, then let's go. I— I don't want to be away from Kate or Gabe for that much longer." Clementine climbed in the passenger seat as he started the car. Javier gripped the wheel tightly and swallowed. His eyes wandered to his side and found Clementine's striking eyes. "So...Prescott." She nodded. Javier pulled out onto the street.

Together, they watched the road ahead. Together, they silently mourned for Mariana. Together, Clementine and Javier took the spare vehicle and drove to Prescott wordlessly.

**[. . .]**

Once they barged through both sets of gates, Javier and Clementine immediately rushed to Kate's side from Tripp's directions: a hand thrusted towards the clinic while arguing with another man about the herd. At the small clinic fashioned from a plane's hull, Kate was unconscious, hand clasped over her bandaged wound. He immediately went to his knees and folded his hands over Kate's free one. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I wish I could've done more..." Clementine stood behind him, her hand gentle on his shoulder.

Eleanor came to Javier's side somberly. She didn't even notice that Clementine was back in Prescott. "She's...stable. All there is for her to do is just rest. I was able to take the bullet out, but...she's bleeding in the inside."

"And that means?"

She tightened her jaw for a moment. "Well, I'm sorry, I don't know what I can do to stop it. I'm afraid it's...only a matter of time."

Javier nodded slowly, his throat tight. "Thanks for trying," he muttered softly. Eleanor bowed her head, then stepped into the hull. Javier glanced over his shoulder. "You don't need to be here, you know. You've barely met her," he said with a hint of a question.

"Why wouldn't I? You said we're a team, right?" He chuckled quietly and murmured in agreement. "But I can leave you with her."

"Okay. Thank-you."

Clementine broke away, the air around Prescott heavy on her shoulders. She took the flask and raised it to her lips to take the edge off. She passed Gabe—if she remembered correctly; all she knew was that he was Mariana's brother.

He lingered by the clinic, eyes kept to his aunt (mom? She only wondered). To distract himself, he watched Clementine. Gabe swayed on the spot before walking towards her nervously. His voice cracked as he attempted to swallow the solemnness away: "Um...that's water in there, right?"

Clementine blinked, the definitely-not-water drained down her throat. She looked at the flask, then back to Gabe. "Well, you might not want to drink this then."

She walked away, leaving Gabe to stare after her. "Whoa..." So she liked the _cool_ guys. The same _cool_ guys that he remembered on television with their road leathers, aviators and criminal background. He didn't have any of those three (and Gabe would like to think she'd like him to not be a criminal), but he _did_ have a beanie. An orange beanie. Like…like a carrot. Or an orange. Or— Gabe scowled and reached for it. Beanies were stupid.

Then, on second thought, he'd been wearing beanies without rest for years now. He couldn't begin to imagine what that had done to his hair. He kept the stupid beanie on.

Gabe puffed his chest and followed after her, swallowing the nervous bubble climbing up his throat. "So, um..." he managed once caught up to her. "Do you...come here often?"

"I'm in and out. The only reason I'm staying is because your uncle owes me a ride," she answered flatly.

He deflated. "Really?" Gabe frowned. "Wait, were you going to take our van?!"

Clementine shrugged. "Yeah."

Gabe swiveled his glare towards Javier as he tended to Kate. He scowled, muttering, "Why'd he do that for?"

"We made a deal _between us_. If you want to ask him, go right on ahead."

Gabe—who remembered that his resentment _wasn't _something ladies liked—waved his hand. "Oh, I'll ask later. There's more important things to do now."

"And what's that?" Clementine asked, leaned against the building.

"Getting to know you...? So—" he cleared his throat— "do you know how to drive?" Clementine nodded. "...legally?"

She chuckled, something Gabe took as a good thing. A sign of his success. "If you're asking if I read the signs on the road at all, no."

"Oh, so you go over the speed limit. I have a secret," he said, leaning in. "Uncle Javi sometimes does that too."

Clementine breathed a laugh, shaking her head. "Does he sometimes have street races with the walkers too?"

"...walkers?"

"Murtos."

"Oh, you mean _muertos?"_

Clementine scoffed. "I just said that."

Gabe snickered, his persona slipping. "No you didn't." Clementine rolled her eyes and took another small sip on her flask. "Anyway, what do you call the ones that run?"

"Oh. My. God. Not _this _again!" Gabe laughed with Clementine gradually joining. Prescott didn't seem so bad anymore. Not that Clementine wanted to stay, nor that Gabe didn't want something better, but the air was easier to breathe.

Far, far easier to breathe.

**[. . .]**

Within a few hours, that had drastically changed.

The New Frontier. A couple of bullets. A hostage or two. That was all it took. And, dammit, when anything detonated nowadays, things went straight to hell.

That was only a couple of minutes ago. Now, her coughs stung, and her eyes burned. Clementine could barely make out the people running from the walkers stumbling; the only way she knew which heads to aim for were the ones accompanied by the horrid smell.

Carnage was a bitch. It always lurked in the shadows before jumping out at her, forcing Clementine to flee.

She couldn't help but feel that sniping one of the New Frontier _wasn't_—exactly—a good move. And that one of those couple of bullets was her fault. Clementine had to have been one of death's angels for how many times the gates of hell followed her.

Francine shot dead. A walker herd swarming Prescott. Terrified screams. Lights blinking on and off. All her fault. Every single one of them.

Clementine felt a hand tug at the collar of her shirt, dragging her behind. "Let—! _Me—! _Go!" she snarled, her words broken with coughs.

"Would you— _Stop _fighting me?!" Clementine was immediately pleased knowing it was Javier's hand—even if the air was nearly strangled out of her. Together, with Gabe flanking Javier's side, they ran out of Prescott towards what looked to be headlights. She growled as they skirted away.

As they crossed the road, Clementine asked roughly, "Where's...Kate?"

"Eleanor got her with Tripp. They're in the truck, I think." He waved frantically as Eleanor slipped into a car. "Never mind, I think that was Tripp leaving though!" Eleanor waited for them as their savior—a knight in shining armor (not that Clementine was keen to admit). The lights beamed to life, and the engine roared, guiding the three through the warzone. Clementine took the ounce of luck with gratitude (...okay, perhaps she _could_ admit it).

**[. . .]**

Clementine only focused on A.J's light snores, ignoring the walkers and their groaning, and the light tune that Ava—or whatever her name was—hummed. It pained Clementine how much the woman wanted to talk. And she can _feel_ it deep in her bone marrow. And she wanted to hork. It reminded her just how much she hated people. And talking. And humming. And…tunes—the one that the person was humming, anyway.

She just wanted a drink. That's all Clementine ever wanted while A.J slept. Drink. Pass out. Wake up. Find food. Play with A.J. Wait for him to sleep. Repeat. The last thing she found was during an hour of desperation, and the beer was in a can. And it was vile.

Clementine glowered and shifted her gaze towards Ava. She huffed. Maybe canned beers would've been a better find in this shed than a whole person.

"So…have you been on your own for a while?"

_Dammit._ It's because she looked, wasn't it? Clementine frowned. "Maybe."

"Well," Ava stretched, getting herself more comfortable along the blankets, "for how long was that, maybe?"

"Um…" Clementine frowned and held her shoulder; even through the shirt, she could still feel the bullet wound underneath her palm. "A while." She paused and glanced at Ava's stupid, subtle grin. "Like…one or two years."

Ava blinked. "I… Damn. That— That—" She shook her head and rubbed her temple. Ava exhaled, and said, "That is 'a while.'" The woman thought for a moment. "You aren't from around here then, are you?"

"And how'd you guess that?" Clementine murmured, eyes narrowed.

There was only a shrug. "I know this place? Been here for a while, anyway. Was stationed at Prescott and the base 'round here before walkers started…well, walking." Ava scratched the back of her head. "_And_ I did visit here a couple of times as a kid. You _are_ a kid right?"

"Okay, okay, I _get it._ I'm a little kid. Bite me."

"A kid with a lotta mouth," Ava snickered. Clementine's lack of laughing landed a sigh from Ava. "I'm just tryin' to lighten the mood. Not much we can do with _these—"_ she gestured out the boarded windows— "still around." Clementine relented, though she didn't add to anything. Ava watched her hold A.J as the toddler nestled against the fold-out bed. "Say… I didn't get your name."

Clementine scowled, more guiltily than anything. Anytime anyone anywhere asked for her name, it always stung. Such a simple thing, really, but it always struck one of the only soft parts of her shell. "I'm, um…" She hesitated, her eyes drawn to the floor. "Clementine. And this is A.J."

"A.J?"

"Alvin Junior," she mumbled. Clementine worked her jaw, and she watched A.J for a moment. "Alvin Rebecca Lee Junior."

Ava hummed, somewhat amused. "That's quite a name."

"I guess."

"Well, both of yours are," Ava added.

Clementine tipped the bill of her cap down. "…thanks." Her mouth was dry. Her throat was sour and knotted. She needed a drink. Now. Clementine held herself, and she searched. Nothing. Absolutely nothing, and it wasn't a surprise that a shed like this—where many people had probably hidden—would be that way. No food, or water, or drinks, just blankets and boarded windows with howling walkers outside.

She didn't raise her attention when Ava had sat back up from the pile of blankets and pillows. "Hey," she asked once A.J had grumbled vowels in his sleep, "does he need one?"

"Uh…" Clementine replied slowly, and she rubbed his shoulder.

"There's a small one over here. I can take it to you."

Clementine swallowed. "Oh, um, yeah… That would be nice." Ava got to her feet with the small green blanket in her hands, and when she strode to the bed, she draped it over A.J gently. And then…she sat on the other corner of the bed instead of back to the blankets. Clementine watched A.J for a moment, who curled into the blanket soundlessly. "Thank-you," she murmured, quiet.

Ava shrugged. "No problem. He seems like a good kid. And you too."

Clementine, this time around, sounded more tired than irritated: "You don't know anything about me."

"True. But I can tell." Clementine shook her head silently, and she knew Ava saw from behind. "So…then, if you don't mind me asking, why _are_ you alone? You couldn't have been away from a group in the beginning, at least." Clementine turned away, and Ava hesitated. "Were you…kicked out?"

"No," Clementine answered. She wrestled with her words for a moment. "I got them all killed."

Ava's gaze was solemn. "I'm sure it all wasn't your faul—"

"The last one in the group I shot a bullet in his head," Clementine snapped, then forced out, "I got them all killed." She needed a drink. A whole bottle. "I don't want to join your New Frontier or whatever. I don't work with groups, and I hate people."

"Well…I don't know about the groups, but," Ava murmured softly, "I don't believe you really hate people. You would've shot me through the windows instead of protecting A.J if you did—hell, you wouldn't even have A.J to begin with. …unless you don't think of him as a person?"

Clementine worked her jaw as she continued to rub A.J's shoulder. "Of course I do. He's everything to me. I hate the people that were alive before the Outbreak then."

"And that includes me and you?"

Whiskey. Now. A whole jug of it. So long as it didn't poison her and leave A.J to whatever stranger would pass by—dead or alive. "Yes," she growled tightly.

A.J's coughs startled the three of them, and he whimpered himself awake. Clementine shushed him sweetly, more to comfort than silence as she rocked him. His eyes were barely open, and he grasped onto her chest.

"Is the little man sick?" Ava asked, concerned.

"I-I don't know. It started this morning," Clementine answered quietly.

Ava nodded. "We do have a doctor, you know? And medicine. Most of the stuff's heavy for infection and things like that, but I'm sure there'd be something that would help."

"He's—" Clementine frowned; the offer was now as tempting as ever. "H-He's okay, right now. He's had little coughs before…"

The woman behind her breathed quietly, knowing any evasion to join when she heard it. Even so, she pressed: "Look, I know…you don't want to join. I get it. Not everybody is fit for the New Frontier. But, if you need that doctor, you can come and find me." Clementine remained quiet as she listened. "I run supplies with a smaller group—the one with the doctor—along the dirt roads around here. We usually go in a ring so that we usually avoid the walkers." Ava leaned forward, and she caught the intensity of Clementine's hazel eyes. "Think about it?"

Clementine watched A.J, who looked up at her with his soft, dough eyes. Ones that always reminded her of Lee. She sighed, then slowly nodded.

"Okay, I'll think about it. But for nobody else."

Ava chuckled. "I'm glad."

**[. . .]**

The two vehicles parked themselves at an intersection, and it jerked Clementine from her light doze. She looked around before clambering out of the car, following Javier. At the center gathered the both of them, Gabe, Tripp, Eleanor and Conrad. Grief and anger consumed them, maintaining a bitter silence in the intersection. Their heads were hung low, eyes to the ground. A mutual lapse of mourning.

Conrad was the first to break it. He scoffed and shook his head. His eyes snapped to Javier. "This is all your fault."

"What?!"

"First, you and Clementine walk right up to my bar—" he stomped forward, fists clenching and livid eyes wild— "Eli winds up shot dead, you're kicked out yet _come back again,_ and with people to shoot up Prescott! Yeah, it's your fucking fault!"

"No, Conrad, calm down!" Javier protested. "You and I both know that those people weren't one of us!_ They_ killed Mariana. _They_ killed Francine—"

"Don't you fuckin' speak about my girl in front of me!" he snarled, his gun whipped out.

Tripp stepped in: "Conrad, please. I know you're not in a good place right now, but we can't be fighting like this out here. We're sitting ducks."

"Listen to him if not me." Javier said, "We've all lost people today. We have to keep a stable group right now. Figure out where we're going."

"_I'm_ not done with this! A whole community's dead, and it isn't any fucking coincidence that it happened the day after you set foot in it!" He slammed his hand into Javier's shoulder, shoving him backwards. "I shouldn't have thought any differently, now should I? You're still that sorry gambler from before aren't you?"

Javier snapped, "Now leave the past where it should be!"

"_Even Prescott?! Even Francine?!"_ Conrad aimed. "You open your mouth again," he hissed, his voice breaking, "and...and I'll shoot."

"Leave him ALONE!"

Everyone jumped, turning towards Gabe. Javier, stricken, shook his head at his nephew who aimed a handgun at Conrad. "Back away from him now!" Gabe snapped. Conrad did so obediently, hands raised.

Javier walked forward. "Gabe...this isn't helping. Just put the gun down, and we'll sort out matters without any shots, okay?" Gabe blinked with a stern brow, jaw clenched. His eyes shifted from Conrad to his uncle.

Slowly, he relaxed and pointed the handgun to the road. "But I swear, if you do it again, I'm not hesitating!" he warned.

"Now Gabe, stop. We don't—" Gabe sneered and shrugged Javier away. "_Gabe_._"_

"I just saved your life, and you're disciplining me?!" Javier couldn't get another word out once Gabe stalked away with folded arms. Allowing some time for him to cool off, Javier strolled back to Clementine's side, who watched Gabe with an arched brow.

Conrad collapsed onto the street, setting his weapon down. He cried out, voice weak and shattered, "Oh...Francine." Conrad's gazed lingered towards Tripp. "We have to bury her."

Tripp shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, I really am Conrad. But you know we can't. Prescott is overrun."

"Then where do we go?" Eleanor asked.

"Richmond," Clementine answered. "I heard there's a settlement there. High walls. Food... It sounds secure, more than Prescott was."

"We'll try it. That sounds just what we need," Tripp said.

Leaving the adults to discuss more, Clementine backed away and strode towards Gabe curiously. He turned around once he'd heard her steps. "Oh... Hey Clementine," he muttered lowly.

"Were you going to actually shoot?"

Gabe huffed. "What do you think? He was going to attack and shoot my uncle!"

Clementine crossed her arms. "I already knew the answer before I asked. You weren't going to, were you?"

She left him stunned. Gabe scratched the back of his neck and sighed, dropping his shoulders. "N-No... I wasn't." He tightened his lips. "I don't know what I was going to do..."

"You've never had to shoot anybody, have you? Only walkers?"

"Uh, y-yeah... And you have?" Clementine watched him, her expression remorseful. "Oh," Gabe mumbled, realizing, "yeah, you have. This morning... But, before?"

Clementine shifted, evading the question entirely: "It's not easy, I know. It's good that you stood your ground but...if you're going to make a threat, it can't be an empty one."

Gabe swallowed and nodded dutifully. "Right, right... Okay." He felt more relaxed. "Um, thanks."

She arched a brow. "No...problem...?" Why did talking to her make him feel any better?

A fair distance away, Javier and Eleanor watched their conversation. And they had an idea to Clementine's question: "Well," Eleanor murmured, "you think they can hit it off?"

Javier frowned and folded his arms. "That's asking for trouble."

"You actually think so?" she asked, oddly impressed. "I thought you liked Clementine. She's your friend or whatever."

"She still is," Javier replied. "But you wouldn't think she's still a kid. She's too old for him."

Eleanor kept her eyes on Clementine for a moment, studying her. "Yeah, if there's one thing I have to admit, it's that... Yeah. I'm probably more afraid of her than most adults."

Javier turned around once Tripp started his truck, waving them over. He called out to Clementine and Gabe: "Come on! Let's get moving!" Clementine jerked her chin before she left for the truck, and Gabe followed close behind.

**[. . .]**

It always struck her as odd how quickly things could change. Or maybe it wasn't odd but uneasy.

One day, there'd be a walled fortress built on an airfield, and the next day not. One day, she'd be in the midst of her routine, and the next day caught in a group's antics lead by an ex-baseball player.

It made her feel odd and uneasy—and strange, come to think of it. She sipped on her flask in thought, leaned against an abandoned-store's wall in the sunlight.

As she waited for Javier to install the hooked wires in a truck to clear out an exit, Clementine shook her flask before taking another sip and studied her surroundings. Another gas station. Blocked off road underneath a bridge. Weeds. Burning sun. Nothing good.

She took a third sip. With Gabe walking towards her, his eyes on the flask, Clementine asked, "What, do you want some?"

"Oh, no," Gabe said. "I don't drink beer."

Clementine glanced inside the container before closing it. "It's whiskey, but I get it."

Gabe nodded, his hands in his pockets. "So...um...I was thinking, where are your parents? I-I mean...do you have them?" Clementine felt her heart grow heavy. He panicked and sputtered, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask that. You don't have to answer..."

"No it's...it's fine." She frowned. "They're dead, and, if I'm honest, I...don't really remember them that well." Clementine avoided his searching gaze. She didn't want his pity.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He gulped and dug his heel in the ground. "I didn't mean—"

He was interrupted by brief cheering and a horrible scream of metal. "He did it!" Clementine breathed, eager to leave the conversation behind. Off to the side, Javier cheered with a pump of his fist; a garage was opened, and the hook of a some engineer's truck (or something, Clementine only knew it had the hook) had pulled away the busted lemon blocking the road. Javier gestured for Eleanor to drive off ahead.

Eleanor tore away with Kate safely tucked in the backseat, passing—

"Oh God, no," Clementine growled, pulling out her knife and pistol. "I think I know why it was blocked off." Walkers. A herd of them swarmed the bridge, and with the racket of Javier's success, they weren't happy. She searched around as Gabe staggered to the side, wishing that she'd paid more attention to the area before. On the side of the gas station were large crates stacked and a dumpster. An idea blossomed as gunfire filled the air, the men yelling for cover. "GUYS!" Clementine bellowed urgently. "BESIDE THE STATION, THE CRATES!"

She sprinted forward, popping holes in walkers' heads as she passed them, Gabe at her heel. The rest followed suit. The herd swarmed them, their roars and grunts filling her ears. Clementine clambered up with Gabe, then lingered at the edge of the roof to hoist Conrad to safety.

"Javier!" Gabe shouted. His uncle stumbled into the crates with a groan.

Clementine reached as far as she could. "Come on, Javi! Grab my hand!" Javier took it quickly and pulled himself up.

"Thanks," he panted. "God, I don't know if there's anybody else that could've gotten us out of there _that_ quick."

Clementine shrugged. "Just add it to the pile." Javier rolled his eyes, then they joined Conrad, Tripp and Gabe by the end of the roof, tucked away behind billboard signs. The swarms of angered groans still blistered the air. But they were safe. For the meantime. "What now?"

Tripp shook his head. "That truck is long gone," he muttered. "And we can't wait here all day for those things to clear out." He turned to Javier. "What do you think, Javi?"

Javier shushed him. "There's someone up there... I just saw him." Tripp sprung before he was yanked back down. "No, I'll go. Just... You all stay quiet."

Clementine frowned as Javier crept across a bridge between the building roofs (made of wood planks), gun at the ready. On the gas station, everybody was silent, ears strained. Clementine heard voices, too far to get any clear words. However, she heard the tones. They weren't exactly friendly, though she couldn't decide if they were hostile.

She moved forward, eyeing the sign that blocked her view of Javier. "What is going _on_ up there?!" she hissed, pulling out her pistol.

Conrad furrowed his brows. "What are you going to do?"

Clementine said, confidently, "I'm going up there. You can follow me or not."

"What?!" he whispered sharply. "He said to stay put!"

"And I just said that I'm going up there!" she spat back. Without giving him a chance to argue, Clementine moved forward. As she reached the other roof, from across the creaking planks of wood, she pulled her pistol on a tall man whose handgun was jutted into Javier's cheek. "Drop it!" she snapped.

The man jerked his head around, surprised. "Oh, well look at— _Gouff!"_ Javier had taken his chance to elbow the man in the stomach and step out of his reach. The rest of the group had quickly crossed over and surrounded the man. "Ah...right, I see, I see..." His voice was mellow and calming, though Clementine felt the sense that he knew more than he spoke. It was tangled within his tone and words. "We're all defensive, aren't we?" There was also a humble twang to his voice, something that contrasted with his intimidating frame and robust, black leather trench-coat

"The hell you doin' here?!" Conrad thrusted the barrel of his shotgun forward. "Were you spying?!"

"No, actually, I was taking a nap when you all woke me up by moving that car," the mysterious man answered. "And now, I'm going to be heading off, so why don't you set those down and we'll go off to our own directions."

Javier, who seemed just as perplexed of this man as Clementine was, asked, "And...where are you going exactly?"

"Richmond. Lost touch with some good people there."

"Oh," Javier said, the tension uncoiling from his shoulders. "So are we. Two others from our group are headed there now."

"Really...?"

Conrad scowled. "What are you doing telling him everything?!"

Javier gestured him to settle down. "Look, we don't want any trouble. We're just looking for a place to stay."

"Stay...at Richmond?" The man almost winced (nobly, mind) and shook his head apologetically. "Unless you're friends with the New Frontier, I'd worry about them."

Everybody was shocked—aside from Gabe, who was left confused—, though none of them were as quick to respond as Clementine: "What do you mean?! The New Frontier's in Richmond?!" Her heart hammered and thoughts whirled.

The man spun around them to catch glimpses at their expressions. "What...you didn't know? They took over months ago."

"Fucking hell," Tripp scowled.

"The...what?"

"You shitting me right now!"

"Guys, who's the—"

Javier tightened his grip around the pistol. "That's... God, Eleanor and Kate are headed right for them!"

"HEY!" Everybody jumped at Gabe's yell. "Finally... Who the hell's the New Frontier? Are they a group?"

"They're the group that attacked us at the junkyard and Prescott," Javier explained quickly. "They're not good." Gabe stared at the end of his firearm, distraught.

Conrad cocked his shotgun. "And who's to say _you_ aren't one of them?"

The man tilted his head and replied, "You've got the wrong idea, there. I'm not. So I'll ask again, you can lower your guns, and I can let you tag along with me for the time being."

"Or maybe we'll just tie you up, and you'll _show_ us the way to get there that way, right?"

"Uh...no, that's not what I said."

"I know that's not what you fucking said. That's what _I _said!"

Tripp raised his gun as well. "Yeah...how do we know we can trust you? We just met."

Clementine scoffed and immediately lowered her pistol. "We _all _just met."

Javier took the notion and stashed his pistol away. "Come on, I have a feeling we can trust him."

"Thank-you," the man said with a grateful nod.

"Wha—"

"Conrad, please." Conrad grumbled in disapproval but relented nonetheless. Javier turned to the stranger. "So, where to?"

The man pointed above where a raised set of train tracks led, puncturing into the mountain as a tunnel. "I heard those will lead straight to the heart of Richmond, just outside the settlement borders."

"Alright. Come on, everybody." Javier took a few steps forward, then hesitated. "Wait, what's your name again?"

The man stopped and turned around. "Oh, yes, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Paul," he answered—which Clementine didn't expect from a guy wearing a long leather coat and beanie overtop his full beard, long and straight hair, and broad shoulders. Paul… _Paul… _"But people call me Jesus." Now that, _that_ was a name she found very suiting.

They all followed Jesus, either curious, baffled or irritated.

And walkers, apparently, loved tunnels. They littered the place in groups no less than three, especially by the mouth of the entrance.

They charged through them, evading as many as they could. Their gunfire echoed throughout the tunnel in harmony with Jesus' swift and agile attacks; Clementine was impressed by his lethal yet practiced skills. She could only imagine what he was like before the Outbreak. Eventually, the concentration of walkers subsided, leaving them with a long stretch of tunnel.

"It should be 'round this bend up here, to the right," Jesus said, pointing forward. The group murmured to themselves.

Clementine watched Jesus, worry and guilt a heavy weight in her chest. She strayed behind Gabe, aligned with Javier's steps. They walked together, side-by-side. He glanced to her as Clementine searched for her words. "Is there...anything wrong?"

"I...need to tell you something. Which, I should've before."

"And you didn't because...?" Clementine nodded forward, gesturing to the group ahead. "Oh."

She inhaled deeply before letting go of her breath in the same manner. "Um...Javi?" She stopped.

Javier did as well, keeping his attention on her with earnest. "Yeah?"

"I wasn't completely honest before. About the New Frontier." He nodded slowly as she rolled up her sleeve.

His eyes widened. Even in the dark, he saw it. "Fucking... _Y-You_ are one of them?" he whispered sharply.

Clementine jerked her sleeve down. "_Was,"_ she corrected. "And not because I wanted to—they had what I needed. Point is, I know how these people are. It's dangerous."

"But Kate. She needs help. We have to go find her and get her to a doctor."

She waved her hand impatiently, her eyes briefly straying down the tunnel. "I get that, okay? Just— _I _can't be there. We're not on good terms."

"'Not on good terms?' What do you mean?"

Clementine answered, "I was kicked out, okay? Again, I didn't _want_ to be there, but I _needed_ what they had." She watched him carefully until he slowly understood. "I'm not one of them. I… They will recognize me because…"

"…because?"

Clementine winced. This was far from her proudest moment. "Because I…well. Since I was kicked out, I've been…robbing their runners and random people on the streets? We're not on good terms."

Javier gave a lengthy sigh. He should've known. Clementine had too much confidence and prose when they first met—at her gunpoint. Then he paused in thought. "Wait, did you know that they were in Richmond?"

"_No!"_ she hissed. "No, _I_ was a runner for supplies down southwest. I never came up here before."

Javier folded his arms, working his jaw in thought. Before he could say anything though, Gabe called from the end of the tunnel: "Come on, guys! We're not going to sit and wait for you!" Javier looked over and found Conrad behind Gabe, standing silently with his pistol.

He glanced at Clementine, then said, "Alright, we're coming!" They walked forward and turned the corner behind Gabe and Conrad. As the four walked towards sunlight, Javier asked, "Did they go through that?" He pointed towards a metro-train that was synched in the middle, forcing two cars upwards.

Gabe nodded. "Yeah."

They all clambered inside, careful not to slide on the newspapers that were scattered across the floor; in one of the seats, a newspaper box had wedged itself in place after having fallen through the door. Javier looked forward and found its entry point.

His heart also leapt as Conrad aimed his gun towards Clementine.

"Whoa, whoa! What are you doing?!"

"Don't play dumb with me! Finish your story!"

Clementine was equally as bewildered, and she looked at Javier for help. "Look, we just need to get moving—"

"_No!_ Not 'til you move up that sleeve of yours!"

"Sleeve?" Gabe asked in confusion. "What—"

Javier stepped forward, only to jerk back. The pistol was searching for a target. "Put the gun away, Conrad! We don't have time for this!"

"Yes we do." He snatched Clementine's arm. "You're _sleeve."_

Clementine wormed away. "What is he talking about?" Gabe's eyes darted between all three. She sighed, and, hesitantly, she pulled up her sleeve to reveal the New Frontier's brand. "You're one of them?!"

"Certainly is!"

"No, she's one of us!" Javier snapped. "She was on the other side of the fight when Mariana and Francine died, remember?!"

"So she goes back-and-forth! That makes her even worse!"

Clementine sneered, "I'm just going to leave, alright?! I'm not one of them—!"

"Bullshit!" Conrad forced his glare to Javier. "She can help us get in—!"

"It doesn't work like that! They don't negotiate, okay?!"

Javier whipped out his own weapon. "Conrad, stop! I don't anything to do with this!"

Conrad growled, yanking Gabe to his side by the collar of his jacket, and with the gun pointed to his head. "How about we make a deal? Clementine comes with us and we get in, or your nephew gets it!"

"Conrad!" Clementine snarled. Gabe fidgeted, struggling to keep his feet with Conrad's arm around his neck.

"What?! She could be useful! We get in, she's off our backs and we're safe, right?!"

"Conrad...please, let him go," Javier begged. Conrad's eyes narrowed, and Javier saw his trigger finger itch. Immediately, a bullet fired sending Conrad's body to the ground. Javier stared, horrified with himself; he barely felt the Glock in his hands. Gabe panted, his eyes wide with shock. "Go ahead..." Javier murmured to his nephew. "I'll...be there in a moment."

"What?"

"Go _ahead."_ Gabe nodded slowly, then scrambled through the door with his head hammering and ears ringing. Javier's shoulders slacked. "Shit... I didn't—"

Clementine eyed Javier sympathetically. "It's not your fault. It just happened so fast." Her own heart was hammering.

"Yeah...right." He gulped the tightness in his throat down. "Go." She stood expectantly. "Go. Before they see you."

"And what about you? You're going to be alright with that?" He nodded. Clementine stepped backwards. "I'm... Okay." Conrad's blood dripped past them in a narrow line. "Thank-you, really. I know you didn't want to but..."

Javier smiled gently, one that didn't reach his eyes. "We're a team...right?" he said, his voice hoarse. Clementine nodded turned around. She didn't look back as she disappeared down the tunnel, leaving him alone. Cravings resurfaced. Her guilt—which had been a consistent emotion for the past few days—irked her. The flask at her hip wasn't enough to drown it all.

No. It wasn't. Definitely not.

Before the corner, she stopped and finally turned around. Javier would've continued forward. Of course she wouldn't have seen him one final time. _No. This isn't— _ Clementine frowned, feeling herself be tugged in two different directions. The train car. Away. The train car. Away. To Javi. To wherever.

She went away.

**[. . .]**

_There once was a station wagon. Left open. The lights on. Its ring loud in the night. The group flocked to it—hungry, cold, tired. And after the hell's paradise they had just left, it was like a diamond had grown in the place of weeds…_

Clementine stalked, weaving in between the pines. Ever since the New Frontier had shunted her away, she roamed her pathways like clockwork. She searched for anything to eat, cook, hunt, or drink. Only a few months had passed, and already it was habitual. Clementine was a panther, circulating her territory.

And anybody who'd cross it—anybody at all—she would, well… Like any hunter, she would strike.

_They had argued. About the car, with all of its resources served as a wealthy buffet. Clothes. Food. Water. Blankets. Books. Camping gear. Batteries and flashlights. So. Many. Things. And it all goaded the group, whispering in their ears that nobody was around. Nobody was there to have them shy away from their abrupt gift. Nobody at all…_

Clementine crouched and rested her shotgun against the trunk of an old tree, scanning through the bushes. She watched the people wander. She heard their anxious curiosity as they stumbled in the clearing.

With the flask in her hand, Clementine inhaled a swig. This was going to be easy. Those girls were perfect. She eyed the pregnant backpack that one of them carried, completely overstuffed by so. Many. Things.

She stashed the flask away, snatched the shotgun, and made her move.

_Except, two stood on the outskirts as the rest of the group—giddy and joyous—pawed their new-found prize. Side-by-side, together, they rejected such a gift. Her hand was joined with his, and she watched a snug red hoodie slip out from the trunk to be examined. She turned away from the unsure gaze sent in her direction, second-guessing the girl's adamant decision._

_There was no way the little girl would ransack that car. Every fiber in her being willed her against it… _

Eyes of hellfire didn't break from the pair as Clementine stepped out into the clearing, gun cocked. Both had their backs turned, oblivious and instead primed with confusion. She didn't give a flying fuck if they were lost; the stupid girls were in _her_ web now.

Clementine raised the barrel and hissed, "Don't. Move."

The girls both froze, unnerved. The rough patches of dirt crunched underneath Clementine's boots as she paced forward, her gaze unmoving. Her voice sliced through the air, and it sent charged shivers down their spines: "Keep your eyes up and out."

The taller one—with raven hair pulled into a tight bun—twisted around. She snarled, "I don't think so, you _bitch!"_

The girl was fast, though the barrel of Clementine's shotgun was faster; before she could even pull out her revolver, Clementine sent her straight to the earth with a clobber to the jaw.

_For several days, she was questioned about it. The man who stood beside her didn't, of course, but the rest most certainly did. It wasn't like she could avoid the food they ate, nor the water they drank, but she could pass on the blankets and towels and jackets._

_The ring of the car doors still looped in her thoughts. She tried to draw, just to keep it at bay. Though, with all of their questions, it was no use. It was a constant thought._

_They shouldn't have done it. They shouldn't have done it. People would be destroyed—and the man of the station wagon was…_

"JANET!" the other girl screamed.

The girl with the bun, Janet or whatever, gasped on the ground, holding her face. The blood from her nose had drenched her cheek on impact, and the curve of her jaw was already darkening into a nasty bruise. Clementine sneered, "You better stay down." She looked to the other girl, who trembled in place. As eyes of hellfire met a terrified sky-blue, Clementine added, "Your girlfriend wouldn't want to see what I'd do if you didn't. I'm not nice, you see? And now I'm fucking pissed."

Clementine left Janet to lay in the dirt, the revolver an arm's length from her broken nose. The other girl quivered as she stalked closer, taking only a step back before Clementine snarled, "And now you…"

_It didn't matter if she never took anything from the station wagon. It didn't matter if the man who stood beside her didn't. The station wagon man still stole her away, giving the man who stood beside her a chance to get bit. A chance for her to shoot him. A chance for him to die chained in a jewelry store._

_And she was left all alone for a day, wandering wheat fields aimlessly…_

"W-What do you want from us?" the girl wept. "We— We never did anything to you."

"You walked down my path as I was coming this way," Clementine hissed. "And _that_ was your own mistake. The bag. I want it."

The girl narrowed her eyes through her tears, and she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "N-No…" she whispered. "We can't. You mess with us, and you mess with the N-New Frontier!"

_The girl learned something that day, something that she'd continue to fight for years thereafter…_

Clementine's expression warped with anger. "Oh. So you're _runners."_ Her jaw tightened, and she glanced over her shoulder to Janet. She remained on the ground, the revolver still a distance away. "That doesn't mean anything to me," she murmured, further striking fear into those sky-blue eyes. Clementine turned back to the girl with the glasses.

She rolled up her sleeve, and the color drained from the girl's face at the sight of the New Frontier's brand. "They already know about me. We aren't friends anymore. Hand. It. Over."

"W-Why…?" the girl whimpered, slowly slipping the backpack off her shoulders.

_Civility and good nature didn't matter anymore. Not as you starved…_

Clementine grabbed the straps of the bag before swinging it over. "It doesn't matter, does it?" she answered. "_You're_ not my friend." She readjusted her shotgun. "Now close your eyes, count to thirty—" she glared at Janet, who was as still as ever— "and don't. Fucking. Move."

The girls both closed their eyes and counted. Clementine slipped in between the trees without so much a noise, and by the time thirty was reached, she was gone. They could still feel her gaze within the shadows—where the morning sun hadn't yet claimed—as Janet was helped to her feet.

Once they left her territory, however, Clementine broke away and began wandering towards a small cottage house. Her eyes swept the landscape for anything moving, though only the tall grass shifted.

"Clem…"

It was only a small whisper from behind, one that was slow to realize. Clementine heard it nonetheless. She twisted around, and immediately everything spiked.

He was still in the shadows, a ghost. The man reached forward, the warmth of the sun hitting his fingertips. "Why…? You never use to steal," he asked quietly, his one kind eye watered.

Clementine's stare was monstrous. She raised the shotgun, the buzz of her whiskey the only thing she could think and feel. "Fuck off," she snarled.

His eye widened, and he swallowed. "Clem— Please, I want t' talk to you. It's been so long—"

Kenny was shot into a cloud of shadows. Clementine hissed, the shotgun's bellow still sharp in her ears. The longer she lingered, the more her shivers enveloped her body. Clementine's breaths were shallow, and a knot grew in between her shoulders.

With a hard swallow, Clementine turned away.

The girl who stood away from the station wagon… Well, she grew to be unrecognizable.

**[. . .]**

And down that same path, Clementine wondered about those girls and whether or not they were in Richmond. Though, she wondered a great many things amongst her scattered thoughts, her body only following the path out of instinct, towards the small cottage. A moth to its light. A salmon up the stream. A habitual panther.

Everything was hazy as she made it out from the trees. Clementine could barely feel the nearly-empty bottle in one hand, a knife in the other. She roamed down the street with a trail of rotting corpses behind her, their eyes drab and punctures in their heads fresh. Clementine staggered to the side after snagging her foot in a pothole, catching herself on a lamppost. "Damn it," she snapped, glaring at the road. Clementine wiped her cheek, clearing her skin of black blood.

For a while, she watched the stars that hung above her, transfixed. As a little girl, she often wondered about the night's sky. Clementine frowned, trying to collect the assumptions she made then, before the world plummeted into the age of death. And she found that...she couldn't remember. Especially with everything _else_ sprinting through her mind.

Removing herself from the lamppost, Clementine found the small cottage ahead. She gave a sort of smile, knowing that it was safe and regularly empty of people—dead or alive. It was a quaint house, alone on its side of the road with a large backyard. She passed a swing-set before reaching the back door. With it closed, Clementine sighed and tossed the bottle in the sink. It fractured on impact, an addition to the small collection she'd begun to build up.

In the living room Clementine sat in the only comfortable seat in the house: a leather armchair facing the large window and driveway. Beside her was an old, 1970s-style television set, with a gaping mouth where a zombified hand rested. And on the other side, a turned-over couch blocking the basement door (her doing several months prior). Her gaze wandered around the house, resting on the bolted front door, then the floorboards that were worse-for-wear in some places.

With a sigh, Clementine stared out the window, idly watching a walker slug across the road with both legs missing. For a moment, she debated searching it for anything useful, though declined in favor of the comfortable chair. Then she glanced at the sudden figures in the window lazi—

Her heart seized.

Clementine whipped her attention to them, realizing that the man and woman were not outside but a reflection. Pistol at the ready, she slowly got to her feet, eyes kept on the window. She couldn't speak. Slowly, her head turned to look over her shoulder. They stared at her, holding each other endearingly. Clementine didn't realize she backed away until she felt the chilling window against her shoulder, and the windowsill pressed against the small of her back.

The eerie silence deafened the house.

Clementine blinked. Her eyes stung without reason as she stared at them. The first thing she noticed was how clean they were; there were no tears or stains in their clothes, their skin was smooth and washed, and their hair—resembling hers with dark coils—were cleanly kept and trimmed.

The woman spoke: "Clementine, baby, don't you recognize us?"

The grip around her raised weapon began to tremble, her trigger finger itching. Clementine's breath shook as tears streamed down her cheeks. _No, it can't be. No… _"M-Mom...? D-Dad...?" she asked with a quiet strain in her voice. "No, _no_," she wept. "You're dead. You're _dead."_

"We're waiting for you," her father said calmly. He extended his hand. "This world is no place for our daughter. Come home. Sandra's been worried sick about you."

"You're all _dead,"_ Clementine snapped. "You're all dead... And I don't have...a...a home."

"Put the gun down, honey," her mother urged. Clementine staggered backwards, sliding against the window. Her parents were far closer than they were before. They were _stalking_towards her, their movements slow and slugged. "Be a good girl and put it away. You shouldn't be playing with that."

"Listen to her, Clementine." Her father trudged towards her with his foot dragging against the floor. "I don't know who gave you that or who told to point it at someone. So put it away and come with us."

"I— I'm not leaving!" Her thoughts were hysterical. Clementine shook her head, trembling as she stepped backwards to the couch. Her voice cracked. This wasn't happening. This wasn't—

Her mother pleaded, "Please, Clemmie," as she knocked herself into the corner of the television. Her knees buckled, but nevertheless, the woman didn't flinch otherwise. "We don't want to see you like this anymore. Just look at you."

Clementine wormed away from them, her heels scraping the floor as she backed right into the couch. Her father grabbed her wrist for a split second before she wrenched it away, hurling herself towards the stairs. "Don't touch me!" she snarled, the tremors rushing through her body jerking her grip around the pistol. His touch had been like a cold knife: sharp and icy. Merciless. Unforgiving.

Clementine's world lurched. Everything sagged and shivered. Her parents' skin rotted away, revealing their bones caked in decomposing blood and eyes pearly white. Their clothes hung from their bodies, shredded. Their skin grew patchy and blotched, and their hair matted.

_"Look what you've become." _His words rattled against his ribs, mouth agape and teeth clacking. _"We've both seen you do terrible things... We want to take you away from this world."_

_"Yesss, honey,"_ her mother hissed like a hose, her trachea vibrating from her throat, _"there is still a chance for you. A better life. We will forgive you for the blood on your hands."_

Clementine shook her head. "No, n-no! You're ly-ing! You're not taking m-me away!" she sobbed. "I-I won't _let you!"_

Her father swiped at her as she stumbled up the steps, her clutch digging into the railing. _"There is no saving our child," _he snarled, and his words were barely understandable.

"No...no...no...no..." Clementine whimpered, her vision blurred.

_"I see the devil in your eyes."_

"No... No _please_, d-don't say that."

_"We're here to drag you straight to hell, Clementine."_ Her father roared a walker's call, clambering up the stairs unevenly with her mother toppling over him. Their arms snatched the air to reach their daughter.

"No, _no,"_ Clementine hissed, her teeth clenched. "No, I won't let you! I won't _let you!"_

Her trigger finger jerked, releasing two bullets to scream in terror and defiance at her wake. Her mother took the first, her eye completely freed from her head before she smacked down the stairs. Her father screeched as his bullet tore through the center of his face; his head fell onto a step, splattering on impact.

Clementine choked on her tears as she stared, the walkers gradually losing any resemblance of her parents. They were freshly risen, their identical sandy hair drenched in blood. She dropped the pistol beside her. Both hands planted themselves against her ears as she shook, the rest of her body rooted to the spot. "Fuck... _Fuck..."_ Her chest was shattered; Clementine held it as she coughed through her cries. "G-God help m-me... G-God...I-I can't go to hell. I-I c-can't be a-alone... _Please... Oh please, God..."_

For hours she couldn't move. In that quaint house, Clementine was the slave to her own trauma, another battle lost.

**[. . .]**

Clementine sat along a log bench, alone, with a fire set at her feet. She ignored the chatter of the other men and woman, her hand kept on her arm. With a wince, she rolled up her left sleeve. The brand just above her elbow was still foreign. Just as strange as the deep ravine of skin and scar tissue on her other arm was in the beginning. And the bullet wound at her shoulder. And her missing finger…

She frowned. No, it was still strange. Clementine didn't ask for any of the others, but she did allow to be branded like a fucking cow. That was the strange thing, wasn't it? Not the brand, but the fact that she was in a group again.

She held the brand for another moment, soothing its burn. At least Ava was the one to do it, even if Clementine had to argue with a tent full of men to make it happen. And then promise to run extra supplies. And then not complain when the blisters on her feet ached after all of it.

The joke was on them: Clementine's aches and pains were the least of her worry, and if they paid any attention to her missing finger, the bullet wound, and the deep scar, they would've realized that she didn't give a damn to what amounted to trivial matters.

But…she was still thirsty. Her eyes shifted amongst the group around the fire, and whenever anybody sent their gaze her way, Clementine jerked her eyes back to the ground. Clementine's head throbbed, and she chewed the inside of her cheek. Curiously, she turned towards her right where—a couple of tents away—A.J was sound asleep in Ava's arms. The woman gave a small wave, to which Clementine responded in kind, though gentle.

Clementine turned abruptly to the steps behind her. She blinked, and looked up. David, the one who ran this camp. Dog-tags around his neck. Clothes reminiscent of the military. The same type of person who remained to be a soldier. The same type as…Lilly.

She was nervous as he sat beside her, hands together, leaned forward, with arms at his knees. David gave Clementine what could've been a smile, though she assumed it had been a while; it was the same one she caught in _herself_ on occasion.

"You handle yourself well, out there. Kept some of my most trusted on their toes—even left a few behind, didn't you?" David commented with a few chuckles.

Clementine was slow to reply: "…thanks. It's not that impressive. I just got supplies."

David nodded. "Sure. But you were able to take care of those things quick enough. Barely made any noise."

She shrugged sheepishly. "I don't always have a gun or bullets. It's not reliable that way."

"Exactly," David said. When she didn't give any more to the conversation, he reached for his vest. "Here. Even with everything, I saw that you…uh, seem to need something to pick yourself up."

Clementine took a brief glance before doubling-back. Her eyes widened.

In his hands was a titanium flask, clothed in leather. Clementine heard whatever was in their slosh at the top. The thing was full, and all she remembered was the plain, worn flask from a trunk years ago. "I…" she whispered. "What's in that?"

"Some whiskey," he murmured carefully. "You reminded me of some people who were the same. It's my spare."

Clementine took it. She could only stare at it within her grasp. "Thank-you," she mumbled before unscrewing the cap and taking a long swing. Immediately, the tension, the anxiety, and bubbling _need_ blinked away as the drink crawled down her throat.

"It's no issue, so long as you keep your drive."

"I will," Clementine ruffed from behind the lid.

David nodded, then said, "The world's taken its toll on you, hasn't it? Always in battle with the enemy?"

She breathed and closed the flask. "I guess you can say that. There's no rest."

"None at all…" he murmured absently. They turned towards his name from across the camp. David sighed, then stood up. "I have orders. Keep your spirits, Clementine, for the next assignment."

"Right." Clementine watched him leave before her eyes were inevitably glued to the flask. She ran her thumbs along the seams of the leather, and she read the branded label, half-expecting it to be the New Frontier's sigil.

But no.

Instead, there was a compass on one side, then a globe on the other. She concentrated, brows furrowed, as she tried to name the continents. She could only remember the Americas, Africa and Asia. The rest she couldn't remember, partly due to her only ever getting those ones correct on her quizzes.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. There was an Australia somewhere, and the fat mass of ice on the bottom had a name, right? Clementine scowled. Maps of the whole world were always so confusing.

Back to the compass, she traced the lines of the letters and numbers intimately. If only it was a working one… She unscrewed the lid and sipped on the booze. A thought surfaced, and she came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, working.

Clementine went back to tracing the designs, cap closed.

After a few minutes, she then got to her feet, flask at hand. She roamed the camp, almost in a daze. The whiskey, it was nice to Clementine. She felt her strength seep back, and her calm. As she watched the trees, at the foot of the fire's warmth and light, Clementine drank more of it. It was like magic, how much it fueled her…

"Hey, uh…Clementine?"

She jolted in place, and eyes of hellfire slipped over her shoulder. "Hi," Clementine grunted once turning away. "Thanks for watching A.J… Who's with him now?"

"Lingard. He's giving A.J some water and warm food," Ava answered. She stood beside Clementine, rather unsure. "What's in that?"

"The brand? I dunno…"

"'Are you _drinking?'_ is what I meant."

Clementine narrowed her eyes and screwed the cap on the flask tightly. "So what?" She held up her hand, scowling, "And _don't_ say I shouldn't 'cause I'm a kid!"

Ava was left puzzled. She watched Clementine sadly; she now understood why she looked so drained before. It was because Clementine didn't have any fire left. Not one flame to help fight against the beast in her eyes. Even so, like before, Ava refrained from asking _what_ that beast was, exactly. She assumed it was the same reason why Clementine didn't belong in groups, and why she hated people.

So, words soft, she replied, "Okay… Okay, I'm not saying anything."

Clementine tightened her jaw and nodded. "Fine…"

**[. . .]**

A night later, Clementine sat at the edge of a small cliff, overlooking the mass of walkers heading towards Richmond. She glared onto the sight, arms folded as she stood tall. Clementine sipped on her flask, maintaining the buzz that kept her strong. Behind her were a bundle of RVs, completely safe from the walkers down below.

She could practically smell the death and dust the herd picked up, and she— Something caught the corner of her eye.

Clementine frowned and squinted. "Is that...?" Her heart jolted. "Javi!" She recognized his baseball jersey from the way it almost glowed in the moonlight. And that ignored the fact that nobody else wore a white baseball jersey to begin with. Clementine raced down the slope as the multitude of walkers swarmed him down below.

She heard him drop his metal bat before she saw it. Clementine careened around a few trees as he stumbled backwards. And while Javier internally prayed for his life—grimacing and hands held out-, Clementine swooped in. After having watched the herd for the better part of an hour, Clementine found it satisfying to hear the bat's metal ring against their heads. After the rest were taken care of, Javier gasped, "Oh God..."

Clementine handed him the bat, handle first. "You need to be more careful with that."

"You just saved my life," he said, grabbing her hand to get to his feet.

"Just add it to the pile."

Javier shook his head, and he peered through the dark night wildly. "Shit, Clem, where did you come from?"

She pointed upwards. "There's an RV camp up there. Not a lot of walkers go by." Clementine looked around. "And you're alone because...?"

"Got separated from Tripp and Jesus," Javier answered. "We were up in there before they kicked us out. Kate and Gabe are still there, though. In Richmond."

"Figures," Clementine muttered. "I can only imagine with David running most of the place."

Javier chuckled. "Oh, I know that more than you..." Clementine arched a brow. "He's...uh, he's my brother."

"Oh." Clementine's eyes looked him up and down in speculation. That revelation had…thrown her for a loop, to say the least. "I'm guessing you two aren't close?"

He tilted his head side-to-side. "Uh...it's complicated. He's my brother, so...you know..." Javier watched her. She looked confused. "Uh, do you? Did you have siblings? A brother or sister?" Clementine shook her head. "Ah, okay, so you wouldn't. Anyway, it's complicated."

"Yeah, I can tell. Now where are you going?"

"To the warehouse down that way," he said, pointing ahead. "But we need to find Jesus and Tripp."

"Not happening."

"What?!"

Clementine folded her arms. "Look, the number of walkers around here, it's not happening right now, especially at night." And that fact was highlighted by the swarm just down the street, ravaging everything they came across.

Javier worked his jaw and let out a long sigh. "I-I guess. We _did_ have a plan if we got separated. To meet a little ways before the warehouse until the sun's peeking out."

"Then we'll wait for a bit."

"What?"

They began to stroll away from the road, Clementine silently leading the way and Javier numbly following. Clementine explained, "Look, I know a short-cut. It's the warehouse a few miles past the suburban neighborhood, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, I was a runner for the New Frontier, remember? I went by there all the time. Probably even stocked a few things in there too. I know a short-cut."

"But what about them?"

"Jesus and Tripp can handle themselves, right? Jesus being…Jesus, and Tripp with those boots that 'weigh heavier than me.'"

"Well...yeah."

"Then come on," Clementine said, offering a hand as she began to climb up the steep incline. "We need to get out of the way of the walkers. You guys walked in on a weaker side. They'll clear relatively quickly."

Javier debated. "How long would that take?"

"I don't know, four, five hours? It's not like they're running a marathon, Javi." He rolled his eyes and took her hand. "See? It's not that hard."

"Oh, stuff it."

**[. . .]**

Isolating Javier and Clementine from the walkers were four large RVs, tires slashed, incasing them within a square of temporary peace. He looked around as Clementine sat down comfortably on a worn foldable chair, eyes to a newborn fire within a rock-pit. "You sure they don't get in?"

Clementine shrugged. "There's been a couple to get in, but there isn't much room for more than one to squeeze through in each of the corners." Javier crossed his arms, narrowing his shoulders anxiously. As Clementine pulled out her flask and unscrewed the lid, she said, "We're fine, Javi. There's nothing that'll get in."

"No, I believe you. I'm just...cold."

She arched a brow from over her flask. Once Clementine swallowed her sip, she said, "Well then sit over here by the fire."

Javier nodded, and he was quick to find himself settled into the wooden chair beside her. He leaned the bat on the broken arm of the chair and rubbed his temple. His foot tapped and stomach flipped. Javier lifted his head. "Should we go find them?"

"They would find our bodies first," Clementine replied grimly. "I saw the herd over there a ways. And it's heading straight for Richmond. There's...not a lot we can do right now except wait."

He chewed his lip. "And you think they'll be fine?"

"Yeah." Clementine ducked her head back, drinking the whisky for a long few seconds. She leaned forward, resting her head in one hand with the other dangling the flask over the ground. "Tripp may be an ass, but he can handle himself. And Jesus is probably good on his own, considering..."

Javier, once again, nodded, tossing a small cut of wood into the fire. Clementine's shadow against the beige RV behind them swarmed to life as she consumed more whisky. She took in a long breath and released it deeply, from the base of her chest. Javier watched her for a moment, the way the flames met in her eyes. The spark that she had after knocking down that tree was absent. Her usual flare nulled. Her fuse gone. "How much of that do you drink?"

Clementine's eyes shifted to him, then to the flask. "Lasts me a week usually, if I just take sips." With a sigh, she said, "_But_, that's not happening this time." The last of it was drunk before she dropped the flask in the dirt, wiping her mouth. She tossed more wood pieces into the fire.

"And what else...?"

"I don't know," she grumbled, "but you'd be surprised by how much there is just laying around."

Javier frowned. "I've rarely come across any."

"Probably because you're looking wrong."

"What?"

Clementine got up and strode towards the beige RV. Along the bottom were small compartments. She opened the furthest one on the left, the closest to the driver's seat. Inside were broken tools and empty bags of food. "You have to keep the important stuff safe, right?"

Javier nodded. "Well, yeah..."

She moved to the next one over. Clementine jiggled on the handle and scowled. "Fuckin'—" She kicked it _hard_ to the point the vehicle swayed. The compartment opened. Clementine grinned, opening it to present to Javier.

His eyes went wide, and he leaned against the chair. "Holy...fucking...shit." Clementine, proud of her stash, pulled out a large bottle of rum—one that she'd been craving for months, though relented for a special occasion. And what better night than during a swarming herd of walkers down the road? "Francine was right... You could have supplied the bar!" Clementine shrugged, flopping back down in her seat. "How'd... How'd you manage all of that?!"

"Well," she started, tugging off the rum bottle's cap, "a quarter of that was already in there. I have spots all along from here to Prescott like this."

"You have this whole system _just_ to save yourself the trouble of carrying all of it?" Clementine nodded as she drank some. "Mierda..." he breathed, almost in awe.

Clementine thrusted her hand towards him, grip tight around the neck of the bottle. "You want some?"

"Sure." Javier took the bottle, then drank. "Damn... That's good."

"I know, right?" Clementine was handed back the bottle. "I can't do that shit in the cans, though." She shivered. "I don't know what it is, but I can taste the metal. Like whenever you find plastic water bottles."

Javier nodded, knowing the feeling too well. "Oh, yeah. There are days when I just want to leave them, especially if the water had some sun." He leaned back as the fire continued to spit and crackle. He watched her gulp more of the rum. Curiously (and fearfully), he asked, "Do you drink this much..._all_ the time?"

Clementine shrugged and set the rum down. "Yeah. Well...usually it's a little from my flask and a bottle a day. Sometimes. Not as big as this."

"How do you not get sick? You can die from it, you know."

A smile finally creased her lips, though it was solemn. "I know. Alcohol poisoning, right?" Clementine looked at Javier in his eyes. He grew nervous with what she would say next. And he had every right: "What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Clementine..."

"I _can't_ though," she sighed, her voice at the brink of trembling. "I can't, knowing I'd be one of them. I can't stop being _alive_, and God fucking damn it..." She swallowed and looked at the ground between her boots. She shook her head. "That's the hardest thing, Javi. I can't kill myself, but I don't..." She didn't need to finish her sentence.

Javier didn't know what to do. His mind raced with no right response. He cleared his throat and gave the only answer he could muster, allowing himself to say, "I know how you feel, Clem... I know how shitty the world can be. I gambled to take my mind off of things, you know? And it felt good in the moment, but it doesn't last... And I know you know that better than most people." He swallowed and scratched his hand. "Difference is, I had everything. I had a baseball career. I had...everything. I was just...running from home, mi familia." He laughed sourly. "And, when my papi died, I...told myself, I wasn't going to run anymore. I was going to stay with my family."

He turned to his side, tearing his gaze from the fire-pit. Clementine didn't, her face washed in warm hues. Though, all the same, Javier knew she was listening intently. "Clem, listen, I know...it's not easy for you to be with people. I know it's— I know it's really fuckin' difficult, actually. But...family, it's— By blood or experience, family is what protects you from yourself." He touched his chest. "I'm an example of that." Kate came to mind. Her deep, striking eyes. Her copper skin and cheery smile. "And...if you ever experience being in love with someone, and they love you just as much, don't let go. Family protects you from the outside. _They_ will protect you from the inside."

For a long, long time, Clementine remained silent. The fire before them had died down, warmly caressing the air with an orange glow.

When she did speak, Javier barely heard her: "I've had many families." Clementine's gaze lacked its usual edge. It was completely devoid of life, only filled to the brim with sorrow. "I almost died last night. I was at this house that's usually...empty. Nobody around, just me and some rabbits or whatever... Two guys though—they might have been brothers, I don't know. But...they had to've died there because they rose and attacked me.

"I didn't see them as walkers first though. They were my parents. But...I didn't recognize them, Javi... It wasn't until my—" Clementine tightened her jaw, forcing down the knot in her throat. "It wasn't until my mom said something to me that I realized..." She grew quiet again, only for a moment. "They're dead, in Savanah. I— I saw them... When it started, they were there for a trip. I thought they would come back and...they didn't. When I _did _get to Savannah, they had…turned." She rubbed the neck of the bottle absentmindedly, searching for her parents' faces again. But nothing. All was blank. Except… "I thought my dad did, for a moment."

She smiled warmly, the sparkle in her eyes brief. "But...no. It was Lee. My, my new family. And we had this group. Kenny, Carley, Duck, Katjaa... Fuck, even Lilly before...before she—" Her throat tightened, something dark within her chest stirring awake. _Blossoming. _But, she pushed it away, too tired and worn to care. "One-by-one, though...they were picked off. And Lee... Lee got bit, and I— I had to shoot him."

Javier watched his hands, eyes burning and heart aching. He knew it was far from the end. He heard it in her voice, the way it cracked and broke into fragmented tones.

"Christa and Omar...they were his...substitute before they..." Clementine stared deeply into the center of the fire-pit. "I found a new family after that. One of the women, Rebecca... She had a baby. And Kenny, even, managed to live long enough to see me again. But...it was the same thing. In the end, it was just me...him...Jane and— _Fuck_." She gripped her head with one hand, her Dodgers cap falling to the ground as fingers laced through her hair. "My...my little _goofball_," she whined, "my little A.J... We were with...the baby and...and..." Her cries took control, unravelling all the emotions that had been pent-up. "Her screams... All I heard were her _screams_... She knew where A.J was and...and Kenny didn't. I-I didn't. They fought, and...and when she screamed for me, I c-couldn't. I couldn't and I— Kenny killed her w-while I turned my head...

"But when I looked back, she was covered in blood. It was everywhere. The snow. His hands... I-I didn't think. I... I pulled a gun on him and he looked at me, begging me to do it so...I— I... I wanted to, so much. So I did…" Javier felt tears drop, sinking through the dirt below him. "A.J was alive, though, and I t-took care of him. I— He was with me when I joined the N-New Frontier. I only joined for him. He... He needed food and medicine. And..."

Clementine lifted her eyes which spliced through his own, anger and scorn boiling within them. "And your brother _refused_. He...he took A.J away from me after I...I had enough. The medicine I stole for him, it...it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough and I can't..." She sobbed into her hands as Javier sniffed.

He reached over and rubbed her back, scooting the wooden chair closer. In a soft whisper, he said, "You're not drinking to kill yourself, are you? You're drinking to forget how to live." Clementine choked on her last few wrenching cries. She leaned into him as he rubbed her shoulder. "I can be your new family, you know... And Kate, and Gabe... We're not leaving any time soon. All of us, together."

"Don't say that..." she murmured, voice watery. "Everybody promises that and...it never happens. I promised A.J and..." Clementine went silent. The two sat still for several minutes. Eventually, as the fire shrank, Javier added another small log to keep it busy. Clementine reached for the rum and brought it to her lips.

Familiarity panged him. "Wait." She paused before any slipped into her mouth. Addiction was a freight train, rearing its ugly head at every corner and charging down the straightaways. "If you're going to do that..." Nothing small in the middle of its tracks would slow it down. Sometimes it would rest, though that was the nature of all things; when it awoke the next time, it would soar with an unbridled determination. "You're not doing it alone." Only when it was derailed could it be slowed; only when it was knocked off its destructive path could the freight train come to a stop—dangerous and messy, though it was.

In no way—and Javier knew this—would he be able to knock over the bullet train that Clementine had, which struck mercilessly with the hellfire in her eyes, and the explosive temper she carried.

Clementine blinked in surprise. Her face softened, and she took the first gulp. He took the second, and the fourth, sixth, eight, tenth...

A few hours passed. The fire was gradually building to its maximum. At first, the wood was placed in. Then, it was tossed. And then thrown. Hurled. By the time the wood had run out, they laid on torn, bloodied sleeping bags with the empty bottle of rum on the ground.

"Yeah, out of the two of us, I'm the uncle."

"Wh... What?"

"_I'm_ the uncle."

"I don't... What do you mean?"

Clementine sat up and stared at him. She jabbed her chest drunkenly, her cheeks flushed and smile tilted. "_I'm _the uncle, so you're my...my...my nephew."

"But..." he asked, his breathy vowels elongated, "_how...?!_ You're...you're like sixteen and, and I'm like... Oh shit. I think— I think I turned thirty!"

Clementine cackled. "No, no, no, no... I'm not sixteen, I'm...I'm..." She frowned and jerked her gaze back to him. "Well, I do-n't know, but _I'm_ still your uncle."

"Uncle?"

"Ye-eahh." Her head bounced up and down. "Mee... That's, that's me."

Javier dug his palm into his left eye. "Oohhh, _I_ get it now." Together, they giggled at their nonsensical joke, one that sobriety would never comprehend. Javier flopped back down, eagle-spread. Considering she was already tipping to the side, Clementine slumped beside him.

"I..._love_ women," he breathed. "And when people say that...that their soul and heart is what's important and..." He sniffed, a fat tear dripping down the side of his head. "And they're right, you know? Nothin' can...can ever beat lovin' a woman like that, with their...soul and heart and heart an' shit." Clementine nodded along, too sniffing a wiping a lone tear away. Javier sighed heavily. "But." He stuck his pointer finger into the air. "But! When they have...that nice ass and—and the lines in their back... Mierda..."

Clementine followed his eyes to the stars, where surely there was the most beautiful woman for her to find. She blinked, scowled, but saw one nonetheless—one that she really had ought to have ignored. "Yeah... I like... I like it whenever their shirts show their necks and, and the— What's the bone here? The one that is...near the shoulder and neck?"

Javier frowned and pouted his lips. "Breastbone?"

"Breastbone...?" She narrowed her eyes before they abruptly widened. "Oh! Actually, sometimes..." Clementine chortled to herself, her eyes still on the woman (somewhere) in the stars. "Sometimes, whenever I see Eleanor, I wonder what it's like to just...to just touch her boobs and—" She pinched the air delicately with a goofy smile. Javier giggled beside her, into the back of his hand.

"Are they...soft, Javi?"

"Wha...?"

"Boobs."

He snorted with a shit-eating grin. "Oh yeah, _oooohh yeah._ They're, they're soft. Real soft."

"Oh... Are— Are Kate's soft?"

"Um...what?"

"I know you have..." she murmured, punching his shoulder.

Javier snickered. "...yeah." A comfortable silence blanketed them, the symphony of distant walkers and a lead, single one playing in the background. Javier shot up once again excitedly. "Hey, Uncle!"

"Eh?"

"Have you...ever played a sport?"

Clementine pondered, one thought slotting into her consciousness at a time. "I dunno," she answered flatly.

"Well today's the day—" he got to his feet, determined— "that we_— Ughnnahh_." As quickly as Javier hopped up, he came down with a hard thud, one that Clementine cringed at. She leaned over her feet, squinting to see if he was alright. His grunting as he pushed himself back to his knees confirmed that Javier García was—indeed—alright. She grinned. "Today is the day that we get you started on baseball!" He spun around, slipping over the not-slippery dirt. "Where's my bat, where's, oh! Right here!" He grabbed it off the ground, and took Clementine's hat for good measure. "Now, come on! I'll teach you!"

Clementine didn't appear amused with the Dodgers cap resting side-ways on his head. She glanced at his outstretched hand.

"Okay!" she chirped, hoisting herself up. (Apparently, _to appear_ something didn't correlate well with _actually_ something.) "Where're we gonna do it?"

"Out—" Javier jabbed his arm towards one of the corners of the RVs— "there. We need the space, Clementine."

"O-kay." Her head swiveled around the small camp. "Where's the ball?"

"The ball?"

"Ye-ah."

Javier scratched his head. "Well...find one." Clementine nodded, assured, and strode confidently towards their designated spot (wherever it was in the night). Instead of walking in a straight line, however, her path took a nose-dive into the beige RV, knocking a few of the alcoholic bottles out of the still-open compartment. She laid on the ground in a heap. Javier barked in laughter, scooping Clementine up by her stomach. "Don't worry, I'll carry you!"

And like a towel, she hung from his arm, eyes following the ground as Javier stumbled a few paces away from the camp. "Alright." He dropped Clementine, prompting a guttural _Oof!_ out of her. "A ball... A ball..."

Clementine peeled herself from the ground and wiped her hands. She turned to the right and smiled. "_I_ got it."

"A ball?"

"A _replacement."_

She took out her knife and stalked her prey. Javier looked over her shoulder and snickered quietly; that little straggler didn't know what was about to hit them!

The walker turned around as Clementine pounced, promptly knocking its knee in. Though clumsy, her stab into the side of its head was quick to kill the monster once and for all. She held the walker up by the tuff of its long, blonde hair. She jiggled it. "Look, no arms!" The walker wriggled, identical to a fish at the end of a line. And? Javier giggled and snorted, finding it rather humorous. With seven whacks of her knife, the head was severed from the neck. Clementine held it up. "A replacement!"

"Oh!"

And within thirty short minutes, Javier had Clementine situated by the RV, the zombified head gagged with a shirt they had found on the ground. ("We can't let it bite us, you know!" Clementine had said. "I know, I know! Let's just...here!" Javier had replied.) She held Javier's bat in the stance that he'd shown her, which was not too far from what Clementine had seen on baseball cards as a little girl—one of the very few things she thought every now and then.

"Okay, ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you ready?!"

"Y-_Yeah!_"

"READY?!"

"THROW THE FUCKING HEAD, JAVI—"

SMACK!

Clementine glowered at him before looking at the splattered mess on the RV. As he meandered over, analyzing the teeth embedded into the RV, Clementine picked up the remains of the head by the hair. "Javi...!" she gasped. One side of the head was completely flattened by the impact, while the other splintered with its skull. "Look what you did!"

"Wha— That was supposed to be a curveball to the—! Why did it go left like that?!"

"It went right."

"My— _My_ left!"

Clementine shook her head, her hands on her hips; the walker's head was flopped to the ground. "I don't think we'll be able to find an armless walker with a head like that again."

"Yeah..." Javier agreed sadly. He took off the Dodgers cap. "Let's go back. We can find another ball next time..." Their fun ruined, Clementine and Javier moped back into the square, the fire having already burned itself out almost completely. They slinked to the sleeping bags and dragged them into the beige RV. Now laid down on the floor, the door closed (the smartest thing they had done all day, as Clementine remarked), the two stared at the ceiling. "You know, Clementine?"

"Yes, Javi?"

"...your smile reminds me of Mariana's." Javier's eyes grew heavy as the drink began to weigh him down.

A few moments passed before Clementine, softly, asked, "Really?"

"Yeah." Javier sighed. "I know you don't do it often, but it's a nice one. Keep it for the people you care about."

She clung onto her hat. "Okay, Javi." Clementine shifted to her side. "Night, Javi."

"Night...Clem..."

**[. . .]**

The train, as always, clacked across the landscape, guided by the rails. Clementine sat in the car, swinging her legs as she fiddled with her dress. She looked around, wincing; her head hurt like hell. _And_ Lee wasn't around. She sighed and kept her eyes to her hands.

In them was a pistol. So cold. So vile. Yet, at the same time, reassuring. Clementine grumbled to herself, aimed for the racing line of trees, then fired. "Why the hell...?" she breathed as her ears rang. It fired its shot, unlike the couple of times before. Cold, vile, yet reassuring, but ultimately unreliable. Clementine flexed her hand, eyes on the nub. She frowned, puzzled, pinching her flannel that was tied around her waist. "The...hell...?" She stretched her legs. They certainly grew within the past minute.

As a response, Clementine asked the only question in mind: "Where the fuck is Lee?"

She got to her feet, which was difficult task on its own. "Oh— _Shit!_" She caught herself on the rim of the car's doorway, then pushed off into a stumble. As soon as Clementine was _sure_ that her brain was in sync with the rest of her body, she made her way to the door.

Clementine had the grace of a new deerling with the congruent thoughts of an unsolved puzzle. It took her a moment to turn the handle and open it. And once the door opened, she immediately felt a rush of wind against her. Clementine eyed the cars in the doorway, still uneasy with her lack of balance.

No Lee.

"Dammit," she hissed. In one motion, Clementine shoved herself from the door and staggered across to the engine. It thrummed underneath the soles of her boots, and her gaze swept across the blend of trees. Her eyes narrowed, and Clementine leaned against the railing. There were people. Spread out. _Watching_ her. She couldn't recognize any of their silhouettes—let alone their faces—, but she knew they were familiar. Somehow, someway, they were.

She spat towards the tree-line, too detached and numb to care. Clementine was looking for _Lee._ Anybody else was a waste of time.

Her boots scraped towards the engine room. And…

Clementine paled. She halted at the window, eyes wide. The wasn't Lee. That— That wasn't _Lee._

She felt the pounding of her heart deep in her palms, and with every beat, each one of her senses focused. The lull of the train against the tracks blurred. The smudge of landscape grew insignificant. It was only the man driving the train that she saw. The only…stranger—someone other than Lee—who stole her attention.

The longer Clementine stood there, the more she grew weak. The recoil of the pistol vibrated up her arms, and she trembled at the spot.

"K-Kenny…" was all she whispered.

And the man in the engine room didn't move. She only ever saw his back until absolutely everything blended together.


	3. Ep3 - Dragon's Fire

**[First Draft] _February 11th, 2020_**  
**[Second Draft, First Edit] _April 4th, 2020_**  
**[Final Draft & Edit] _November 27th, 2020_**

**[32,608 words]**

_Hope you enjoy!_

_:)_

* * *

**\- A Yellow Dress Forgotten -**

**_. . Episode 3: Dragon's Fire . ._**

* * *

_"And if you gaze long enough into an abyss,_  
_the abyss will gaze back into you..."_

_~Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

She shivered. The chill in the air sliced her cheeks like sheets of metal, and Clementine held her arms. She stepped off of the train, only to slip. With uneven breaths, Clementine caught herself with the train's rail.

Ice.

Clementine swallowed, slowly looking across the vast, frozen lake. She couldn't see past the haze of white where land should've been. And when she turned to clamber back on board, the train was gone. Clementine blinked. It had truly left her on her own.

Carefully, she walked on. Clementine winced as the ice crackled beneath her boots, and all she wanted to do was get the hell away. She wanted to find land—a sturdy structure. Clementine stepped forward, eyes over her shoulder, when she heard it: a second set of steps, low and unruly.

She spun around violently. No one. But the second set of steps, they were still there. Clementine frowned. Her heart matched the unsettling beats until she realized they _weren't_ steps at all. Her gaze sunk to the ice in horror. "No…"

They were fists pounding against the ice. Frantic. Panicked. "L-Luke..." she whispered hoarsely. "Luke..."

Clementine feet were flighty. She followed the pounding without thought, until she felt them below the ice. Clementine fell to her hands and knees, scrubbing the snow from the surface. "Luke! Luke, I-I— Hold on, please!" she yelled, snatching her flask from her hip. Clementine held it within both hands above her head.

The metal screamed as she bashed it into the ice. Again, and again, and again. The beats slowed by the time her hands were torn from knuckles to wrists. Clementine was unceasing. With a surge of energy, the flask broke through the frigid ice, and Clementine followed once everything shattered beneath her. Her screams were muted below the surface. The water was dark, and once again she was alone.

Clementine swam towards the crater. The air pierced her lungs as she gasped, and Clementine snatched the edge of the ice with a sob.

Once again, she had failed. She was still that stupid kid. She still couldn't save a life. More blood on her hands.

Clementine trembled as her upper body scraped the surface. And as her legs kicked, Clementine gasped in shock. A hand had snatched her ankle. Once it yanked with an inhuman strength, Clementine was forced back under. She kicked at the sodden man with her boot blindly, only to recognize the face. Clementine went ridged as Luke—skin warped with the water's current, and eyes pale as can be—continued to scratch her, tugging her down towards the many decomposed hands that reached for her.

At the bottom, a hellish fire glowed. The flames grew, slithering amongst the water and undead. _Your time is now..._ it hissed. _Your time to join us, Clementine..._

_Hell claims every monster born..._

**[. . .]**

Clementine wrenched herself up from the sleeping bag as a trembling mass. She held herself, the rivers of sweat that beaded along her temple dripped to her neck. Beside her, Javier groaned, stirring in his own bag. Clementine's exhale was shaken. She clenched her jaw, reaching for her hip before remembering that it was empty.

Her lifeline—she drained all of it the night prior.

With most of her breathing managed, Clementine slowly got to her feet and strode out of the RV door. She blinked in the early sun's light and adjusted her cap. As Clementine walked out of the RV square, she kicked bottles to the side. The pounding of fists haunted her with every stride, and as she stared down the cliff, Clementine was adamant on driving them away. There would never be a night—she swore—that she'd think about that day again.

But Clementine knew that that was a lie.

**[. . .]**

When Javier got up in the early morning, then stepped out of the RV square with the sun barely peaking over the mountains, Clementine's firm brow and unsmiling lips had completely replaced her drunken glee. He rubbed his forehead, lessening the ache. She turned around as he got to her side, pointing down the cliff's edge. "Look. They're safe," she murmured. "We won't have to use the short-cut after all."

Javier smiled. "Would we be able to catch up to them from here?"

Clementine nodded. "Come on, there's a way down." As they carefully trekked down the edge, Javier kept glancing towards Tripp and Jesus; the men hadn't seen either of them and instead continued to follow the street. At the foot of the cliff-side, Javier tripped and stumbled, clutching his stomach. He winced, feeling all of his insides slosh together.

"Oh...mierda." He swayed as he glanced over. "You feel it too, right? It's not just me?" Clementine closed her eyes and nodded. So her firm brow and unsmiling lips _weren't_ out of lone-wolf syndrome; he had the same predicament too. "Fuck."

"Don't remind me," she grunted, walking onto the road.

Javier didn't even want to remind himself of the Devil's concoction: hangovers. At the very least, his head didn't feel _too_ bad. Well...no, actually. When he put more thought on it, Javier felt _worse_. (And sweaty?)

Together, they walked down the road, following the other two whilst evading as much confrontation with walkers as possible. He kept his eyes to the side where the muertos were, and was thankful that they appeared to keep to themselves.

Beside him, Javier noted Clementine's solemn gaze and sorrowful eyes. He knew she had only woken up a few minutes before him—in a cold sweat, trembling. So he decided something. Maybe it was a bad idea—that _was _a pattern in his life. Even so: for just a minute, they could forget their fucking aches. Javier grinned as he said, "I got an idea."

Clementine surveyed him with side-eyes. "Oh yeah? And what's— _Fucking, Javier! Put me down!"_ She spazzed as Javier swung her off the road, hoisting Clementine over his shoulders. After a moment of struggling (and laughter), Clementine was perched on his shoulders, watching their shadow of an awkward, tall, hungover monstrosity amongst the tree line. "God...Javi! What the hell?!" she hissed.

Javier chuckled, holding her legs as he walked on. She yelped for a split moment, her hands slapping over his forehead and cheek for balance. "You weigh a ton. You sure you actually were _surviving?_ Sure as hell know how to live off the land, don't you?"

Despite his aching stomach—and Javier assumed hers did as well—, Clementine's soft laugh brightened the morning ahead. "You fucking dick. I'm not that heavy. And how can _you_ live in a fucking van with your weak-ass knees?!"

"The van you were going to take..."

"Whatever."

In the distance (Jesus and Tripp really did walk fast, huh?), Javier and Clementine spotted the other half of their group pause, staring at them in disbelief. "Wave at them," Javier said, tugging on Clementine's leg.

"Alright, I am," she retorted, her hand having naturally raised anyway. Who what they assumed was Jesus waved back, and then the men began walking towards them. "You know, you can put me down now."

"Okay, okay, fine."

Clementine clambered off. When her feet hit the ground, she staggered to the side, holding her head as it felt like splitting open. "Oh...shit..." Suddenly, she missed sitting on Javier's shoulders. The air was much crisper up there. And less sweaty.

"Head?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine. Let's just meet them. We really do have to get going."

Javier glanced at the morning sun, which was now appearing to be much more whole along the mountain's ridge. "Yeah, we do."

Midway, the four met. Tripp's grin was wide. "Alright! I thought you two little fuckers would make it! And..." He paused, then stared wildly at Clementine. "Two fuckers... Where the hell did you come from, Clementine?"

Clementine shrugged, gesturing towards Javier. "Eh. He was getting his ass beat, so I came by and decided to save him."

"_Hey!"_

Tripp barked in laughter. Jesus folded his arms and gave Clementine a smile; he said, "Glad you could join us, kid."

"Anytime," she said.

Javier then asked, "So you two are good, then?"

"Gave us hell for a good few hours," Jesus replied, "but we managed to find a large oak to hide out in."

"Yeah, for only a few minutes before a branch snapped..." Tripp sighed, patting his stomach. "Not much to expect, though. We aren't exactly small, are we?"

Jesus raised his hands defensively. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm as light as a feather."

Tripp rolled his eyes. "Oh piss off," he groaned, "your fat-ass is what broke the damn thing!"

Javier and Clementine grinned at one another as Jesus explained, "It was a simple misstep. That's all. And besides, weren't you the one saying your boots way a ton each?" Tripp gawked, then grumbled in defeat. Jesus flattened his coat with a smile of victory. "Anyway, we need to get going. I don't want that sun to be over our heads too quickly."

Javier nodded, a wash of nausea hitting him. "Right...yeah. Let's go." Wordlessly, Clementine and Javier followed the two men as they recounted the other mishaps that occurred the night before. (Something about a rabbit, and then not a rabbit but a small child walker, and then a whole trampoline they used for cover. Maybe half of that was the hangover talking, though.) Javier held his stomach and glanced at Clementine.

She inhaled deeply, attempting to ward off her own bouts of nausea with cool air. She shared Javier's gaze. It didn't work—and Clementine didn't think it wise to clamber over his shoulders again.

As they continued to walk down the road, Javier thought to the RV camp as a way to take his mind off of other matters. "So..." he murmured, vaguely recalling a certain conversation, "do you...think Eleanor is pretty at all?"

Clementine eyed him carefully. "I mean...I guess she is." She frowned. "...why?"

"Oh, you know—" Javier shrugged— "just curious."

"Javi..."

He rubbed his beard in thought, then clasped his hands together on top of his head. "You don't _really _hate Eleanor, do you?"

Clementine felt her cheeks warm for no damn reason. "I never said I hated her. She's a bitch, and I don't trust her."

"Uh huh..."

Growing irritated, she snapped, "If you have something to say, fucking spit it out already!"

Javier grinned, allowing the steam to rise off of her for a few more seconds. "It's just, you know, I do remember you saying something about her last night."

"...what?"

"Like...wanting to fondle her boobs—"

"I. Do. _Not!"_ she hissed hotly. Javier snickered. "I don't! I— Stop _laughing!"_

"A drunk man's words _is_ a sober man's thoughts, Clementine," Javier retorted in glee.

"Oh yeah? I'm hardly a _man,_ and I remember you trying to throw a curveball for the first throw!"

Javier huffed. "Come on, that was funny."

"I— _Fuck, behind you!"_

Javier spun around, snatching his bat and clobbering a muerto from behind the trees. Up ahead a few feet, Jesus and Tripp were also taken aback by the small bundle of walkers that had decided _this_ moment was the opportune time to jump them. Clementine, armed with her knife, slashed through another one, then gasped and held her knees. She must've swung her stomach out of alignment. "Oh god..." Clementine clenched her jaw, and her eyes slid upwards.

At her side, Javier was leaning against a tree. Once Jesus took care of the last straggler (by knocking its head against the same tree with a forceful kick—to which Javier was too sick to flinch), Tripp held his rifle by the shoulder. "Fucking... Is everybody good?"

"As good as I can be," Javier grumbled, Clementine nodding along.

Jesus remained still and frowned. "There's still one somewhere 'round here..."

Tripp, with Javier departing from the tree, stared into the bushes. "Yeah, I hear it too. I'll go check it." The two swayed in place, their brains throbbing against their skulls, and their stomachs tossing like a set of angry seas. As Jesus watched them with careful eyes, Tripp stepped between the trees and groaned. He immediately turned away, eyes watered. "God damn," he wheezed, "the fuck happened to _you,_ ma'am?" A shot fired, silencing the groans.

Curious, Jesus, Clementine and Javier wandered towards the walker—or rather, Jesus wandered over while Clementine and Javier stumbled across the overgrown grass. Somberly, Jesus shook his head. "That...is not a death anybody would want," he said.

In the center of their small half-circle laid a walker, eagle-spread, with its long, braided hair curled beside its small frame. From its jugular down to its pelvis, the walker was meticulously split open, almost completely hollow of intestines besides a kidney, both lungs, its heart and a squashed portion of its large intestine. The smell was horrendous, vile, and cruel.

Tripp, who took a few paces back, covered his mouth and nose. Jesus, on the other hand, heaved a long breath and watched the hungover pair. "Are you two doing fair? You look sick."

And indeed they did. As the walker's stench wafted to them, their stomachs jerked, and their skin paled. "Oh...fucking...shit..." Clementine grunted. She slipped off her hat and wiped her forehead, which was beaded with sweat. "I'm... Oh my god, I can't."

She gagged. "Pendeja...no..." Javier slurred, holding his stomach. "Don't, _stop_._"_

"I can't... I can't..." Clementine was forced on her knees, her Dodgers cap flopping on the ground beside her. Javier, too, began to dry heave.

"What the fuck? Are you two—" Before Tripp could get any closer to them, Jesus held out his arm across his chest.

"I don't think you should get closer... They're about to spill out whatever they have."

Clementine planted her hands in the grass beside the walker, hovering over the cavity of the carcass. "Fuck..." She gagged with a scowl. "Fuck...come on..."

"No..._ughf..."_ Javier went on all fours, mirroring Clementine. He shook his head, feeling his skin grow green. His mouth gaped as he stared into the muerto's horrid line of broken teeth. Clementine's next gag was gurgled, and she forced her fingers to the back of her throat. She vomited into the walker's abdomen, forcing the hell-spawn inside Javier to hurl itself up his throat. He heaved, sweat dripping as Clementine continued to empty everything she had. He glared at the dead woman's mouth. "Puta muerto..." he began, preparing himself. "Métete esto en el culo podrido."

He gave into his vomit, the slush pouring through the walker's mouth and down its throat.

Clementine, with the last of it spat out, groaned and fell backwards, her forearm covering her eyes. Her breaths were heavy as Javier continued his rampage. By the time he was done, he had slumped over to his side with an odd sigh of satisfaction. Clementine wiped her mouth and grinned. She looked at Jesus and Tripp, who both looked equally disturbed; by the looks of their faces, Clementine was also willing to bet that if they had one or two of the crucifixes her mother had, they'd chuck it at both her and Javier—and then the vomit-bucket-of-a-walker for good measure.

"You mind giving me some water, Jesus?"

He frowned. "Not after you defiled this woman's body, no." Jesus glared at Javier as he began to open his mouth. "And _don't_ ask me for bread."

Javier, with wide eyes, stared. He deflated. "Fuck..." _How did he know…?_

Tripp and Jesus glanced at each other, then walked away, leaving the two to pick themselves up. As they were set back onto their designated path—feeling significantly better—, Clementine and Javier wiped their mouths with their sleeves. Their eyes met, prompting them to both smirk in unison. Instinctively, with her mouth parched, Clementine reached for her hip and took out her flask. However, before she could remember she had drained it, Clementine frowned and paused. Clementine jiggled the flask. It was half-full. "Huh...?"

"What?"

"I thought I emptied this." Javier frowned. Clementine sniffed the open lid and gasped, eyes watering. "Oh, that is _not_ whiskey."

"Wha—" The flask was thrusted to him. He sniffed and wrenched away. "Oh my god, that smells like crude oil!" Javier saw the wondering glint in Clementine's eyes. "You can't really be— _Clem!"_

It was too late. Clementine took a swig, swishing it in her mouth before spitting it along the side of the road. She coughed after a few moments, eyes burning. "It...actually tastes fine at first. But _holy fuck,_ it burns on the way down," she croaked. Clementine offered the flask.

Javier shook his head, hands raised. "Nah uh. Look, I don't remember ever filling that thing up, and I don't know what we put in it. I'll pass."

"Come on. To get the vomit out of your mouth," Clementine said, swallowing the last of that horrid concoction.

"That's probably what got us so hungover!" Javier protested. Clementine and Javier's minor squabble took a pause as they noticed Jesus and Tripp both looking over their shoulders, eyebrows arched.

"You guys were just drinking last night...?" Tripp asked, unamused.

Javier waved his arms. "What?! It was a rough night."

"And we were surrounded anyway," Clementine added.

Tripp growled, "And here we were trying to get five minutes of rest..."

The pair grinned sheepishly, then remained respectfully mute for the next few minutes. It didn't stop Clementine from shoving the flask into Javier's chest. He forced it back. She forced it back again. He forced it back squared. She forced it back cubed.

"Clem, I—"

"Drink. It. We can dump the rest out after," Clementine hissed. Begrudgingly, Javier took the flask and felt the mystery drink slosh into his mouth. He swished it around, finding it oddly sweet, then sour, then— He spat it out with hacks. Javier, feeling awfully betrayed by the drink, poured it onto the road as they continued to walk.

He surrendered the flask over, glad to see it stashed away. Javier barely listened to the quiet conversation between Tripp and Jesus, and he pointed his eyes to the ground. "How...about we don't tell Kate or Gabe this? Keep this between us?"

"That drink?"

"And the muerto."

Clementine nodded with a sigh. "Yeah... I think they'd probably not talk to us for a solid month."

Javier chuckled. "Gabe longer."

Clementine grinned, rolling her eyes. As she strode forward, she looked over her shoulder. "Bet."

**[. . .]**

By a large garage, walkers swarmed. The sun was hidden behind looming clouds, leaving almost translucent shadows. They ravaged the chain-linked fence that Tripp, Jesus and Clementine barricaded with teeth-gritting force. Javier, meanwhile, pushed all of his weight into the jackhammer, opening the main door in several beats. "Come on!" he called. "It's open! Let's go!"

Clementine was the first to take the chance, rolling underneath the gap. Jesus was second, allowing one of the walls to tumble over. Javier watched Tripp, worried. "Come on!"

"You get in, Javi! I'll get there!" Javier nodded to himself and ducked inside. With his heart pumping, he watched Tripp in anticipation. Tripp swung at the few walkers swiping at him before bolting. As soon as he slid underneath, Javier kicked at the jackhammer that was the only thing holding the garage open. It took five slams of his shoe and the garage door was slammed closed. The dead scratched, banged and rammed against the door. It didn't appear to budge.

With a sigh of relief, Javier gasped. "Hopefully that holds..." Clementine murmured.

"Yeah. Hopefully," he echoed.

They didn't get to relax for long, however. Steps awoke from within the shadows. Clementine whipped around, eyes narrowed. Behind her, everyone tensed.

David brought himself into the light, and his eyes darted across all of them. "I...thought you died. I've been waiting for a few hours, got worried when the sun rose, and—" His eyes were drawn to Clementine, wide with shock. "The hell...?"

Clementine felt a surge of anger rip through her. Just the sight of him irked her to the core—which wasn't helped by the minor ache of her head. "I have a few questions for you..." she hissed lowly.

As she stalked closer to David, Clementine readied her pistol for another round with a click. Jesus said, "Hey now, don't do anything brash, Clementine."

"Brash..." she mumbled. "Brash?" Clementine pointed the barrel at David's throat, glaring down his narrowed gaze. The man shifted uncomfortably, finding her eerily calm ire far more unsettling than the usual fury of a dragon. "I'm just asking, did you let him turn? Did you let A.J turn?!"

David shook his head. "I... I didn't have to."

She was stunned. "Wh... What?!"

David, cautiously, pushed the gun away. She whipped it back, narrowly missing his jaw. "Look, Clementine, he...he lived. He's alive."

Her heart, it wrenched from one side of her rib cage to the other. She couldn't speak, not even when Javier was behind her. "How...?" he asked his brother. "Clementine said he was sick. How'd he survive?"

"He's stronger than we thought. Bounced right back," David explained. Clementine stepped backwards, the gun still hovering before her, though lowered towards David's stomach. "A.J's a fighter, Clementine."

Javier watched her as she stared at the ground, so small and lost. At first, he thought her world was crumbling. But no, it had already, hadn't it? Instead, this was the moment her world—one that _had_ crumbled and been shrouded in shadows—finally caught a glimpse of light. "Clem..."

David continued: "It was a miracle. He's alive."

Her face was pulled into a sneer. Clementine lifted the pistol and snarled, "I don't believe you. Where is he if he's alive?!"

"I... I'm not the one who knows that for sure," David rushed. "That, that would be Dr. Lingard."

"I— You—" Her words were chopped as much as her thoughts. Clementine pointed her weapon to the ground. "I don't... I don't understand." She collapsed to her knees, leaning her head into her hands. "He's... He's dead. He _died_._"_ Clementine's eyes sought David's, tears searing her cheeks. "You're _lying_ to me!" she hissed.

"He's alive," David promised. "Clementine, he's alive."

"No, no he's not," Clementine snarled her hands on the ground, tension coiled between her shoulders. She bared her teeth, shaking her head. "He's-not-alive," she then hissed, jaw tight. Clementine trembled.

"Clementine, I'm telling you—"

Javier waved his brother off and said, "Give her a moment, please."

"But—"

"_David_, not now."

"I... Fine, alright." David sighed, relenting. He watched her for a moment, then flicked a switch on the wall. With the garage now completely bathed in white (and some flickering) light, David said, "Now let's get you supplies, a motorcycle, and you can be on your way."

"W-What?! But Gabe, Kate! You can't just expect me to leave them!"

David glowered. "I expected that from you years ago; it shouldn't be different now." He put his hand on Javier's shoulder. "It's okay. They'll be safe and looked after."

"Yeah," Javier said, shrugging him off, "not without me, you are. I can't just _leave_ them now!"

"Javi—"

"What the fuck is this?"

Tripp's question interrupted their building argument. The brothers looked towards Jesus and Tripp, who both were staring at the large crates. Clementine, numb as she was, frowned, slowly getting to her feet. "What...is it?" she asked, her voice crackled.

"'Property of Prescott Airfields,'" he read. "This..." He blitzed around, eyes quickly landing on David. "What the actual fuck is _my_ shit doing here?!"

"I don't know," David breathed. "I didn't realize..."

"And look over there," Jesus said, pointing to another section of the garage. "It's not just from Prescott. All of the other allies the New Frontier had." David was left baffled. He blinked, and even Clementine could see that the utter puzzlement that dawned the man was genuine. Jesus, meanwhile, was left suspicious. "How long were you in here for?"

David immediately caught onto his accusation. "I don't know anything with this! This garage is a storehouse for the New Frontier. I've been here for a few hours in the corner—in the dark, remember?—away from _that!"_ he retorted, pointing towards the garage door where several walkers still clawed. "I didn't bother reading everything because it's usually with our brand!"

Clementine narrowed her eyes across the room, ignoring the newborn quarrel. Amongst the walkers, amongst the bickering was...an engine? "David, did you have other people come with you?" she asked, cutting Tripp across; Clementine's question, with her thoughts raging, was one of curiosity rather than malice.

"What?! No! I—" He heard doors of a truck slam. "Get down, all of you!" he barked, and he grabbed Javier, pulling him to the side. Clementine ducked out of the way, her heart beating as the back door swung open. She spared a glance and noted four men carrying more crates.

All from Prescott.

From the side, Javier and David nodded, then stalked forward in a crouch. Once catching Javier's eyes for a brief moment, Clementine followed.

Her thoughts were like a pendulum, flowing in and out of reality—her environment. As she desperately tried to focus on following Javier, A.J bled through her mind. The alcohol and flask—both had her reality slipping.

In...

_Has he grown? Would he remember me? Is he even fucking alive?! Is David lying?!_

And out...

In a pack, they snuck up on the men around a large table. Javier snapped, "What the hell are you doing?" Caught off-guard, the men whipped around in a panic. Clementine's eyes widened. The man from the junkyard, he was here. The one who killed Mariana. And with Javier just an arm's length away from her, she could feel his fury rise. Clementine surveyed all of them; they were _all_ from the junkyard.

Mariana's killer sneered; he snatched his gun from his hip and fired. David and Javier ducked for cover while the men sprinted away. "AFTER THEM!" David bellowed—though he was far, far away. Dumbly, with her thoughts scattered, Clementine chased after the closest fleeing man with Jesus.

In...

There was a chance. Clementine couldn't believe it. _My boy… A.J, is… Where…? Why…? H-How?!_

And out...

She followed Jesus outside, tracking down the man that had slipped away. Her thoughts were in a million shattered pieces. Clementine's body acted on its own, knocking down walkers that got in their way and slashing their heads with her knife.

In...

_Could it be true? Could A.J really have survived?_ Clementine didn't know. And she really didn't like not knowing.

**[. . .]**

It didn't take long to reach Richmond's borders, especially since the herd had gotten there first, and then wandered off, collecting stragglers as the mass went. Every once and a while, Clementine wondered how much faster they would've gone if Jesus had stayed with them; Javier wondered if Jesus would make it on his own; Tripp wondered if they were ever going to shut the fuck up about Jesus. Finding a safe section to sneak in, however, _that_ took several hours on its own. Not only had the first (albeit small) wave of the herd wandered about, there were guards to be mindful of. Once Tripp had found a small alleyway—a stroke of luck—, the rest was smooth sailing—five walkers discounted.

As they stalked around a corner, Javier drifted to Clementine's side. Quietly, they talked: "Do you think that A.J is out there?"

Clementine wanted to believe it, that was clear. "I... Yeah, I don't know. But I have a friend who would be able to tell me, in the medical unit."

Javier nodded with a small smile. "That's good. That's...really good. If, you know, it's true." They continued to crouch along the scattered barrels and cars. "Don't worry, Clem, if he's out there, you'll find him."

"Thank-you." They stopped at the main street, ducking as guards strolled by. Tripp jerked his chin and darted around a corner. They followed. "And...I heard what happened there when Jesus left. You— Did you really kill Badger?"

Javier gave a long breath, his thoughts on his blood-soaked bat across his shoulders. "Ah, y-yeah. I...I don't think I regret it but—"

"You do."

Javier sighed. "Mariana wouldn't've liked that. She never believed that _we_ are the ones to decide someone else's fate."

Clementine's heart quaked at the sound of her name. She tightened her lips and breathed in deeply to calm the solemn thumps against her chest. "That's...a very old and beautiful way of looking at it."

"Yeah, it is. She never had to kill one of those things, you know? Not Gabe either, not alone anyway," Javier said. "Kate and I were always there so, you know, we dealt with them whenever we could."

They halted as Tripp had, and watched him peeked out and over a rusting car's trunk. "I guess I wouldn't know. Lee taught me how to shoot a gun and keep my hair short when everything started."

"Smart man."

Clementine nodded with a gentle, nostalgic smile. "Yeah, he was. He was a professor at a university... I guess he made it easier for me to be on my own, and maybe even raise a kid. Though...there were other people with that last part. Like there was Christa too, and she taught me almost everything else."

"That's good… That's all everyone really wants now, you know?" Javier patted her shoulder. "Are you going to go? Find out where he is, I mean."

"Yeah. Now."

He took his hand away and gripped his bat. "Go. See you on the other side."

Clementine grinned and caught Tripp's eye. His head bobbed down the street to a cleared alley. She took his offer and stealthily darted away. Clementine navigated through the area, the size of Richmond dawning on her. She knew cities were huge—of course, they were _cities—_though the way the buildings loomed over her was unfamiliar. In all this time, she had forgotten just how big the human world was.

Once reaching a dumpster, Clementine felt her adrenaline jerk her down, avoiding the wandering guards' attention. As they passed, she took out her flask and brought it to her lips.

Clementine frowned and shook it. Empty. That's right. Turns out a quarter-liter flask was not a lot for a drunk. Not that she _was_ a drunk. Clementine didn't fall asleep or stumble around or... Well, no, she did, but that had— That was rare, you know? She was just...moderately tipsy for every hour—

She growled to herself and tucked it away. That was another priority: refilling the flask. Clementine poked her head from the corner and mentally noted that whichever she came across first—whiskey or Dr. Lingard—would be dealt with then and there. Though, knowing the doctor, alcohol wouldn't be too far away.

Clementine hoped so, anyway. Though, on second thought, perhaps not. After all, as she had said to his face once, he was a bitch when it came to whiskey.

Once the guards were surely gone, Clementine darted down the block. And another. And another. By the time she had gotten near the heart of the settlement, able to peer into what she thought was the center square, Clementine slipped into a building with boarded windows. Inside, she saw the shadows of its residents along the walls, the people belonging to them blocked by a bookcase.

_Shit..._

Carefully, Clementine reached for the door when her eye caught a bottle of...

Oh how God blessed her soul, it was whiskey. Her mouth watered as a grin broke across her lips. Her eyes darted from the bottle to the shadows. Clementine crept towards the side table on which it sat, which was deeper into the corner, away from the wall. However, it was at the landing of a staircase. Clementine paused, her ears straining for any noise from the second floor. She frowned. There wasn't any voices—no, there weren't any words, but there were _voices_. Clementine pondered for a moment. And rhythmic creaks.

And...wait, what did that woman say?

The small of her back grew warm as she listened. It wasn't until her cheeks were hot did Clementine realize that she should _not_ be listening to people in bed. In any case, Clementine knew the coast was clear since they were obviously occupied. She took the whiskey from the table and sat at the last step. Ignoring the lovey-dovey couple, she studied the bottle with her flask at hand. The bottle had been dunked in water at one point in time—or, at least, that was what the smudged ink on the label had told her.

Figuring that a _little_ sip couldn't hurt, Clementine took her chance. Her eyes widened with her grin. She looked at the bottle happily. _Apple_. Good God, it was apple.

That was most certainly going in the flask. Clementine didn't even care if the flask was too small for all of the drink, that apple whiskey was _hers_ now.

With a giddy stomach, she slid her flask back to her belt and snuck back out the door with the rest of the bottle under her arm. Curiously, Clementine turned around and read the sign posted beside the door. "'The Skanky Walker Club,'" she murmured, "huh... That...explains a few things." She chuckled to herself as she walked the streets, while also wary of any guards. Or people in general, for the matter.

It took her an hour or so (and half a bottle of apple whiskey) for her to finally find the medical center.

By this time, Clementine's grin was completely gone, and her constant buzz set ablaze. She felt it in the spring in her step. Dodging the last of the wandering clients (she assumed), Clementine finally found the doctor laying in a chair, all alone in an emergency room. The only light in the room came from a candle and a white glow from the counters at the end. Electricity…in a place this size, it was a miracle. No wonder the New Frontier took it over.

She turned back to the doctor. "Lingard?" she asked quietly. He laughed bitterly, his voice broken and cracked. His bloodshot eyes dragged themselves across the room to her. "Oh...not now..." Clementine scowled.

"Heeyy... Look who's here to talk..." he drawled. "I always thought...that we were the same, Tangerine..."

She rolled her eyes. "We're _not _doing this right now," she whispered. Clementine strode across the room to the foot of the chair. "Dr. Lingard, I have—"

"You and me...we're both addicts right...? Addicts have to...to...stay..."

"Lingard..."

"...together... If I...ask you...to, to do something, you...would, right?" Dr. Lingard watched her through tired blinks. "You'd...underst..." And, just like that, he was out like a light.

"Uh, Doc?" Clementine snapped her fingers. "Doc...?" She then pinched the bridge of her nose and hissed, "Of course. Fuckin' junkie." Clementine slapped him across the face. Nope. He didn't even flinch.

Clementine sighed. She was going to be there for a while.

**[. . .]**

She was warm when she awoke, and everything was quiet aside from the tires against the road, and the hum of an engine. Clementine blinked. She felt small, and dainty, and…stick-like. A newborn foal.

She sniffed, then grinned, nestling deeper against Lee. The RV. Clementine had nearly forgotten about it, what with the train and all. And that she easily got car sick. And that camping wasn't really _that_ fun. And…

Well, that was it. But by Lee's side, his arm around her shoulder, Clementine didn't mind any of the shortcomings.

Her eyes slid towards the back table. She only saw the back of Ben's head—another face she tried to put together, but couldn't quite remember. Although, she saw every angle and line of Lilly's face as the woman sat in the corner of the RV, almost in a daze. Sometime stirred in Clementine's chest, one that she first felt when they were in the RV together, and Kenny was driving, and Katjaa and Duck were still alive, but no Carley—

Her jaw tightened as Lilly glanced at her, and Clementine tore her eyes away. She instead focused on Lee's deep breathing, and just how much of a soft, warm cushion he was.

And that was it. No talking. Just the trees blurred through the windows. The hum of the engine. And the remnants of her first family after the Outbreak, back when they were slowly falling apart…

One of the last quiet moments in her life. So simple. So relaxed and detached from the calamity of the world outside.

**[. . .]**

She awoke with a start. That was...a nice dream. She grinned for a moment, her eyes dancing along the walls. Where was she—

Clementine panicked, not realizing she had fallen asleep in the chair beside Dr. Lingard—who was still blacked-out himself. Searching for the source of whatever disturbed her so suddenly, Clementine looked across the dark room, almost getting out of the chair. And that's when it hit her, the sharp ache at the base of her stomach. Clementine pushed against her torso with a fist, which seemed to have dulled the pain.

What the fuck? Did the whiskey poison her?!

Clementine barely pushed herself out of the chair before halting, then she sat back down again. Don't. Move. Anything. "The...fuck...?" she breathed. Another dart of pain was shot into her stomach. She groaned and pulled out her flask. Taking her long sip of the morning, realization dawned on her. "Please...please don't tell me this is happening _now_." Clementine put the drink away, and she slowly stripped herself from the chair.

She couldn't even utter a word. Clementine was having a very good day until this point. Or night. Was it morning? When... _Shit_, it didn't matter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck..._ God, I can't just—" She wrung her fists. Her eyes slid to Lingard guiltily. "Shiiiit... Uh..."

Hide it. Yes, just hide it. He didn't need to see the chair Clementine bled on. And, fucking hell, this was supposed to be a good day with the apple whiskey and all, wasn't it?

Or the thing she was thinking of wasn't actually happening and the whiskey _did_ actually poison her?

Clementine scanned the room for a towel, or another chair, or anything to hide her embarrassment. She grimaced and rushed to the counter. "Come on...there has to be something..." She found medicine, a box of pads with these purple flowers all over them, surgical tools and vitamins. But nothing that would help her!

Clementine nervously looked over her shoulder to the doctor. He still hadn't moved. "Come on..." She continued to search the drawers once again, bottom up.

The door opened.

She couldn't control the gasp that escaped her, nor the stumble away from the counters. "I—" Clementine blinked, almost choking on her sigh of relief. It was just Javier, looking extremely surprised himself. He relaxed, dropping his shoulders...

Clementine narrowed her eyes at his gushing wound. She didn't leave him with a gaping _mouth_ on his arm. "God, Javi, what happened?!" she asked, her eyes darting from his shoulder to his eyes.

He shrugged, glancing at his injury. "Just got into some trouble, that's all. I came by here to get it cleaned but..." He pointed at Dr. Lingard.

"That...needs more than cleaning," Clementine said before her eyes drifted back towards the doctor. "And he's been out of it since I got here."

"So you weren't able to ask him?" She shook her head. "I see. And...you were looking through the drawers because...?"

Clementine grimaced, arms folded. "I-It's not what it looks like, okay? I was just..." She sighed, her gaze held firmly on his shoulder. "We need to stitch that, Javi," she continued, avoiding the question.

Javier strode to her side and watched Lingard. He arched his brow; there was bruise at the peak of his cheek, and a red hand-mark planted across his face. A mark, which, was very suspicious in its size. "So I'm assuming slapping him doesn't work?"

Clementine rolled her eyes. "Just... Just forget that. I can stitch your shoulder up."

He chuckled and wandered towards the counters with her, searching through the top drawers while Clementine the bottom. He paused. "Wait...you know how to stitch it up?"

"Mhmm. It won't be pretty, but I can."

With the cabinet door open, he stared down at her. Clementine, on one knee with a drawer pulled, watched him expectantly. "Like...how?"

She brandished her left arm that wore a deep, gnarly scar that ran up from her wrist to her inner elbow. He grimaced. "Got bit by a dog and stitched it up myself in a shed," she said simply.

"Uh...with what? Fishing wire?"

Clementine gave a laugh of surprise. "Actually, yeah. And a sewing needle. So yours will probably look better."

Javier grinned and continued his search. "It better. I still have to be dashing for the ladies."

"I thought cool scars brought in all the ladies."

Cheekily, Javier asked, "You think you'll win over Eleanor with that?"

Clementine, gob-smacked, scowled. She then snapped, "What are you talking about?! You're still not going on about _that_, are you?!"

"You _did _say you wanted to grope her boobs, Clem."

"Shut _up. _I was wasted."

Javier chortled as her cheeks blossomed red. In the back corner of the shelf, he pulled out a white bottle of pills. Reading the label, Javier perked; now _this_ would certainly help with his wound, especially with Clementine's handiwork. "There's some painkiller here...think it'll be useful?"

"Speaking from experience," Clementine answered bitterly, "not a good idea."

Javier held the bottle and glanced at her guiltily. "Uh...yeah. Right... I can tough it out, and Kate..." He pursed his lips. "She's...tough...and probably had some already..." After talking himself down from taking the medicine, Javier set it back. "Okay...uh...right."

Clementine felt another jolt of pain and gasped, clutching her abdomen.

Javier reached for the painkillers without a second thought; he watched Clementine, worried, and asked, "Do you need them? Is there something wrong?"

"I— No, no I'm _fine_." She clenched her teeth, the pain burrowing itself deep for a moment. "I just..." Clementine paused, then stood up. She wrung her wrist and glanced at Javier briefly. "I...started bleeding. I-I know it's a thing," she mumbled, realization slowly creeping onto Javier, "and I've travelled with women before so— I just... I—"

Clementine screwed her face tight, searching for her words. "W-Why does it happen? I-Is there something wrong with us? Is—"

"No! No, no, no, no!" Javier sputtered in a rush. Clementine jumped at his eagerness to calm her, eyes alert. He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. "No, it's uh... It's a totally normal thing. It's just you—er... Blossoming into womanhood."

Clementine blinked twice, utterly confused. "'Blossoming...into woman—' Wha...?"

"It's normal, everybody goes through— Well, I mean, not _everybody_. You're the only one in this room that can—" Her eyes darted between Javier and Dr. Lingard. "It— It means you're growing up, and you're becoming a woman and...uh... It's...a..._good_ thing... Heh."

A stretch of silence developed between the two. While Clementine's mind was blank, only replaying the confusing—though ultimately supportive—bundle of words over and over again, Javier's thoughts went haywire. How old was Clementine?! Did he really drink with her?! Did he—

Oh my god, they both admitted to _boob stuff_.

"Oh."

Her simple utterance jerked Javier back to reality. Clementine looked up at him, and in her eyes he saw an inkling of Mariana. An inkling of a girl that didn't know the world like he did, that needed his guidance. Javier breathed in and out slowly; it felt strange seeing that trusting gaze in Clementine, especially within the hellfire of her stare. And what had Eleanor said? Something lurking in her eyes?

Javier relaxed. All he saw was that inkling. "I uh..." he mumbled, "Kate can explain it when we get back. I don't—"

Clementine waved him off. "Don't worry about me. You're the one with the arm split open."

"Uh...right. Yeah." They went back to searching, switching spots. Javier checked the drawers while Clementine opened the small aid kits that littered the back of the counter. Javier opened the second drawer to the bottom and lit up. "Ah! What a coincidence! These'll be perfect."

With her hand on a kit, Clementine asked, "And...what's that?" He pulled out the stupid flowery box she had found earlier. "Those pad-things...?" she asked, voice monotone.

"These 'pad-things' will help you with...you know."

Once again, Clementine simply uttered, "Oh." Javier handed her the box. "Um...thanks."

"Yep."

Clementine set it aside as she opened the aid kit. "And here's what you need right here." She pulled out the sterilized needle and thread, then the alcohol. "Go sit over there," she said, careful to pick a chair that wasn't dirty—or, well, dirty with _her_ blood.

"Alrighty." Javier began to unbutton his jersey before remembering the bat slung over his shoulder. "Ah, here, hold this." Clementine took it and set it down beside the flowery box. As Javier stripped his shirts off behind her, she soaked the cloth in the alcohol. When Javier was sat in his designated chair, Clementine strode to his side.

"Okay...don't breathe," she murmured. Javier held his breath as she dabbed his wound. Other than a minor wince, he didn't move. Clementine frowned in concentration, carefully threading the stitching through his skin. His grip around the chair tightened, and Javier let loose a breath.

As she continued her work, Javier said, "I... With that stuff before, I'm not really the best at explaining."

"You were fine," Clementine said. "I've had other people try to explain adult stuff to me before, and they _really _made it weird."

"...what stuff?"

Clementine paused. "Sex stuff."

"Ah..." he breathed.

"Uh, yeah." She tightened the thread, closing part of the open wound together. "It's gross. Especially the dic—" Clementine gagged.

Javier chuckled, nodding softly. "Yeah, it all can be... Like, that doesn't really go away. It's kind of nasty, especially now since nobody takes showers anymore."

"Showers?! You mean people used to do it completely _naked?!_" Clementine asked, utterly bewildered.

Javier winced, and Clementine immediately went back to mending his wound—and patting it, as an apology for tightening the skin a tad bit much during her shock. "Well…_yeah._ And it's nice—" He paused, frowned, then turned to Clementine. "You do know it's called a penis, right?"

"A what?"

"The _nicer _term for 'dick' is 'penis.'"

Clementine pursed her lips with a tight brow. "Penis…" She grimaced. "No, 'dick' rolls of the tongue better."

And at that, Javier's chortles became harder to contain. "I— Okay, okay," he managed through boyish giggles, "I guess it doesn't matter that much. Not as much as this— So, _this,_it just means you can be a mom, if you wanted. You know? It's... It's a good thing."

"I...thought I already felt like a mom," Clementine whispered, focusing on Javier's split shoulder. "With A.J... We were all over the place." She smiled and said, "I remember, we were at this ranch house up in...Virginia, I think? Maybe it was Pennsylvania, I don't know. But I found this trunk and...there was a bunch of stuff there. Food. New shoes. A blanket. My first flask. And these little overalls and bandanna I put on him." Javier shared her smile. "He was so cute in it. He looked like a little farmer."

He barely felt the needle splice into and out of his skin. "That sounds nice."

Clementine nodded slowly, cutting the last of the thread with the needle. "Yeah... Everything went to shit right after that, but...you know, it was nice while it lasted." Quietly, she wrapped his arm with bandages.

She stood up, and Javier felt his shoulder. "It always is like that, isn't it?" He analyzed the stitching. "And I owe you one. Thanks."

With a smirk, Clementine remarked, "Add it to the pile." She threw his shirts at him, then tossed the excess materials in the trash. He slipped the clothing back over his head.

Just as he had the last button done, groaning came from the other end of the room. Clementine, alert, watched Dr. Lingard. "He's awake," she murmured.

Javier followed Clementine to the foot of Lingard's seat as the man groggily blinked himself awake. He stared at the two, processing. "Ah... Javier. I thought you were...rottin' in a cell someplace with your brother..." He frowned. "Did he make it out too?"

Javier nodded, though said, "Joan took him. I don't know if he's alright."

"Poor bastard," Lingard mumbled. "Joan's...she's not one to cross. She'll... She'll be searchin' for you, you know." He lazily gazed to the side. "Oh... And so you too, Clementine... She'll— She'll be searching for you too."

Clementine scoffed. "She can try," she snapped bluntly. "I'm only here for one thing. Lingard... A.J... Is he, is he alright? Is he actually alive?"

The doctor slowly blinked. "Uh, yes... Yes, he is..." He rubbed his right eye with the palm of his hand. "Thanks to David. You, you know, he really stuck out for 'im."

"David?!" Clementine clenched her jaw. "What do you mean _David_ did?! Why— Why'd he tell me to come to you to know where he is?"

"Oh, so that's it..." Dr. Lingard groaned, sinking into the back of his chair. "Yes, David did raise A.J for a while there...after he got better." He choked on his weak chuckle, pounding on his chest with his fist. "But he sent him away for better people. You don't have to worry about him no more."

Clementine felt the buzz throughout her body seize, a fiery jut of anger sending her fist down on the surgical table. The syringe and capsule that rested on its surface rattled. "Just tell me where he fucking is! I need to know, Lingard, he's the only fucking thing I have to live!"

Dr. Lingard paused, watching her with mournful eyes. "Addicts...always understand each other..." he whispered, almost to himself. His eyes switched between Javier and Clementine. Slowly, he picked up the syringe and capsule, and drew the vibrantly-colored liquid through the needle. He dropped the emptied capsule, then stared at the branded symbol on the back of his wrist. "You know...David was the one who saved me. All I wanted...was to die. But...he— _He_ got me to care about people. About myself...this damn place. I could be a doctor again." Dr. Lingard rested his head against the chair. "But...with him gone, there's nothing..."

"Hey, don't say that," Javier replied. "There's always something to live for, even if you don't realize it yet."

"Right...right, that's— That's funny." He held up the syringe. "We'll have a deal... Kill me, and I'll tell you where the boy is."

Javier was numb as the doctor slid the syringe into his hand. "I..." He stared at the needle, frowning.

Clementine, her eyes kept to the chair, said, "Javi... We— We have to do this. I can't lose A.J..." She looked at Javier, the uncertainty in his eyes. "Javi?" He frowned, his hand beginning to tremble. Clementine swallowed. "I can do it," she whispered, taking the syringe from him. "You don't have to fight in all of my battles."

"I... Okay," Javier stuttered.

She held Lingard's arm, feeling his excitement and relief through his skin. He watched her, his own angel of death.

Clementine put the tip of the needle against his flesh. Her eyes were drawn to his bloodshot ones. "So, where is he? Where's A.J?"

Lingard gave her the barest smile she had ever seen him give. "McCarroll Ranch. It's... It's a few miles west of here," he said, adding, "Thank-you, Clementine."

Clementine hesitated, a knot forming within her throat. "He's... He's actually alive."

The needle sunk into Dr. Lingard's arm, and the vibrant liquid was injected into his body. He rubbed his arm as she pulled away. "And, and be sure to take care of afterwards. I don't— I don't want to become one of those things." He relaxed and leaned against his seat. "Now...do be careful 'round here. Joan...she'll be searching for you—and your friends. You... You better hope she...doesn't...find...y'all..." The life drained away in his eyes, leaving him slumped in the chair.

Javier leaned forward, gently pressing his fingers against his throat. His voice was low: "Dead... He's dead." Clementine reached for her knife, expression solemn. "No, no... I can do this," Javier promised. Clementine held back. Javier was handed her knife; he aimed, and said, "For you, buddy. I'm sorry." Clementine flinched once the blade dug into the doctor's head. Javier pulled it back out and wiped it on his jeans. He handed the knife back over. "Come on, let's go. Gabe and Ava should be waiting not too far from here with weapons."

Clementine nodded and followed him out the door.

They walked down the hall, quiet. Their steps were out of sync, something that Javier thought was odd; they were usually on the same page, right? Or, at least, since they met a few days ago. Hell, it has only been a few days, hasn't it? Javier pursed his lips at the thought, turning the corner towards where Ava and Gabe waited. "They should be in one of these..." Javier's sentence died off once he realized Clementine wasn't right at his side. "Uh, Clem?" He turned around. A few paces behind him, she stood, a hand covering her eyes and the other wrapped around her waist. "Hey..." Javier whispered, stepping closer.

"H-He's...alive, Javi," she whimpered. Clementine removed her hand from her tearful eyes. "H-He's actually alive... My boy, he's alive," she cried, sinking to her knees.

Javier slunk down to her level and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He felt her grasp his jersey, melting into his embrace with trembling hands. "I know... I know..." he cooed softly. "It's okay, just... Just let it all out."

"H— He's alive," Clementine repeated. "I can't... I-I can't..."

"It's okay. It's okay." For a long few minutes, they remained uninterrupted in the dark hallway, holding each other tightly. Javier felt a _fraction_ of his heart—only one of the larger pieces that broke away when he buried Mariana—become whole again. He smiled to himself. "Does...this mean he's my cousin?"

Clementine's shuddering breaths became ones of cracked chuckles. "You...moron." She pulled away, wiping her eyes. With a shake of her head, she muttered, "Yes. This means he's your cousin."

**[. . .]**

They were silent as they listened to Javier and Gabe's conversation idly. A mutual silence—no words needed. Clementine was sure Ava could feel the erratic thoughts that plagued her, and that—at the same time—everything was numb. They glanced at one another, nodded, then looked away.

Down the halls, around some corners, and the conversation ahead of them grew quiet as well. Clementine wondered if Ava knew _she_ knew about A.J. Maybe. Ava was always good at seeing right through her. That, or maybe Clementine was easy to read.

Either way, for once, she wouldn't have minded the unnecessary conversation. Not that they ever did, during those few moments. But, Clementine wouldn't have minded at all.

And it puzzled her, if she was honest. Not in a bad way though, no…

Perhaps it was because the clouds had lifted after so many months.

**[. . .]**

As they walked towards the room with Gabe and Ava leading the way, Javier jerked his chin. "You can go and talk to Kate about...this when we get in there," he said, unsure of the words coming out of his mouth. "I'm not great at explaining this sort of thing, and she can...er...help you out." He held the handle for a moment and said, "And she's a good person to talk to. She doesn't get..."

"Embarrassed?" Clementine finished.

"Y-Yeah. Well, I'm not—" Javier stopped himself as Clementine arched her brow; he wasn't kidding her. He grinned meekly and opened the door. "But she will help, I promise," he said.

"Thanks," she mumbled quietly, walking towards Kate's room. Hand on the handle, Clementine took a deep breath before turning it.

Clementine shut the door behind her with a soft click. In the bed was Kate—who was holding her side, previously counting the cracks in the walls. As Clementine came in slowly, Kate was grateful to be torn away from her mind-numbing activity. "Hey, so I see you and Javier made it back alright," Kate greeted. She gestured towards the armchair beside the bed (which had definitely seen better days, with its torn fabric and all).

Clementine stood at the side of the bed, eyeing the chair. She, softly, rejected: "I don't...think that's a good idea."

Kate blinked. "No?"

"Um...yeah...no," Clementine mumbled. She swayed for a moment, then said, "Javier told me...to see you in private about something."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I...um... I started bleeding this morning in the doctor's office, and..."

Kate's smile was warm and somewhat humorous. "Oh, I see. And you told Javi?"

Clementine shrugged. "Yeah, when he got there," she told her. "He said I was...'blossoming into woman-hood' or something and gave me these." She took out the box of pads from behind her, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Especially while Kate giggled to herself.

"How sweet of him, even if he can be an idiot," she said. Kate watched Clementine for a moment with a sudden thought. "How old are you, Clementine?"

The question took her by surprise. Not because of the moment or the question itself, but Clementine realized that her answer wasn't immediate. She had to search for it. "Oh... I don't really know," she admitted. "What time of year is it now? Like, season...?"

"Beginning of fall?"

Clementine frowned in concentration. "So..." She counted the years that had passed, and said, rather unsure, "Fourteen? I think."

"Really?" Kate said, more out of wonder than anything. "I only asked because you seem a lot older than that; hell, I thought you were a few years older than Gabe."

"And he's...?"

"Turning sixteen in a few months," Kate answered proudly. Clementine nodded, gingerly setting the small box down on the nightstand beside them. "How much of this stuff do you know?"

"Stuff?" Clementine asked, staring at Kate blankly. "I mean, I know women bleed sometimes."

"Yes..." Kate agreed slowly, "but that's just a part of it."

"A part of what?"

Kate sighed, waving her hand lazily towards the armchair. "Go and have a seat. It's not like a little blood will hurt it. And besides," she said, "I wouldn't be surprised if a muerto died in it." Clementine made a face, though sat in it all the same—at the edge. "Now," Kate continued confidently, "what's happening to you is a 'period'. It usually happens once a month for a week or so if you're healthy and eating right."

"Okay..."

"And it allows you to have a baby," Kate explained.

"A...baby?" Clementine shifted uncomfortably trying to imagine herself with a swollen belly—in short, she couldn't. "I thought..." she said with a furrowed set of brows. "I thought that people made babies from sex."

Kate nodded, sitting up in the bed. She winced, clutching her side with tender hands, though braved a comforting smile nonetheless. "Yes."

"What does this...period-thing have to do with sex? I don't— Javier even said something like that and it makes no sense. And naked and _ech._"

"Oh god. What else did he say?"

Clementine's expression skewed into one of thought. "That I should say 'penis' instead of 'dick?'"

Kate snorted, shook her head, and laughed, "Oh that hypocrite. Don't listen to him, _I've_never heard him say 'penis.'"

"Oh," Clementine murmured with a light smile. Though it was quick to falter. As she pondered, she asked, "But…what— Why… Why does this happen?"

Clementine kept her eyes on Kate, eager to understand. And Kate made sure that she would answer her questions. (What was she going to do instead, stare at the wall some more?) "Basically, when you get your period, it means you've become sexually mature." Clementine kept her eyebrows steady and low, listening intently. "Women have eggs, and when they're ready, they travel inside her and wait until she has sex to make a baby." The more Kate explained, the more confused Clementine appeared. "But if that doesn't happen, then the egg will leave the body during her period."

"Oh," Clementine mumbled. She fidgeted with her hands, twiddling her thumbs. "When does the egg come out?"

"Whenever you're bleeding."

She pressed against her stomach as it ached once again. Clementine imagined an egg moving inside of her, knocking against her sides. "But what do women do when it comes out?" she asked.

Now it was Kate's turn to be thoroughly confused. "What?"

"The... The egg? Do we just throw it away?"

"No, not really," Kate said. "We can't see it, it's very small. We can only see it through a microscope."

"A micro-what?"

"A..." Kate blinked, her hands hovering over her lap as she tried to explain. "You know, a microscope. In science labs..." The amount of puzzlement that blanketed Clementine's expression reminded Kate of pure innocence, something far rarer after the hungry dead began to walk. "From school...?"

Clementine shook her head. "No. The last thing we did was when Mrs. Penny let us keep caterpillars as pets," Clementine explained, a youthful smile eradicating all of her scars and lines of stress, "and then we let them go when they turned into butterflies!" She then paused, the fragment of her childhood vanishing as quickly as it had blinked to life. Clementine didn't realize she remembered _anything_ from elementary before the apocalypse.

Kate noted her slight dismay. "Well, was it a fun day?"

"Yeah...I think. I remember letting them go, anyway," Clementine answered. "You never find them anymore, you know? Butterflies."

"Yeah, I didn't think about that... I forgot about them, actually. There's flies though. Always those damn flies."

Clementine nodded and glanced at her stomach again. She pressed in her curiosity-driven interrogation: "But the egg then... Why does it hurt if it's not that big?"

"Not that big? Clementine...were you thinking about a chicken egg?!" Clementine shrugged, lips pursed into an awkward smile. Regardless, Kate began laughing. Uncontrolled. Volumed. Her joyous, carefree laugh was something she hadn't felt in a while (sober)—the last time was years ago with Javier in their van. It felt nice to laugh, even if she needed to quit; Clementine was visibly worried, staring at her in bewilderment, and her bullet-punched side hurt. "Ow...ow..." …like…_a lot_ hurt.

Clementine folded her arms. "That's what you get for laughing..." she muttered with a hint of teasing.

"I know, I know," Kate said. "It's just...Clementine, it's not like chicken eggs. They're too small to see."

It had been a while since Clementine blushed to the point she did then. Though, with Kate's endearing giggles, Clementine chuckled quietly. "Well, I got that now, thanks." As they shared another laugh, Clementine felt a question bubble to the surface, one so far left field for her and yet...so _natural_. Once settled down, she fidgeted in the chair and held her hands together. "W-When... Uh... Kate?"

"Yeah?" Kate answered, her voice soft as she waited for Clementine to brave her question.

The more she thought about it, Clementine felt her face grow hotter—more so than a minute or two prior. She was glad that Kate was laid-back, unlike the few others that had a conversation like this with her; even then, though, she was never told about the period-thing being tied to _eggs_. Oh how she missed the days when all there was were the kissy-stuff things. "So...er, with...sex... Does it...matter who it's with?"

"As long as he loves you, it—"

"No, no...that's— That's not what I meant," Clementine rushed, flustered. "I mean... Can—" She shrugged, her hands following her shoulders loosely. "Can two...women have...er, sex?" Kate was left surprised, not expecting that from Clementine, especially from observing Gabe's feelings. "I mean, I know it's usually a man and a woman but...I don't— I don't know if I..."

She frowned. Clementine didn't know if she wanted it. It wasn't a _bad_ thought, though it wasn't her concern either. There was only indifference; but women...nobody _told_ her about that. It was outright avoided during some painfully awkward conversations.

Before Clementine could add on, Kate said, "Yes, they can." She tilted her head to the side. "Do you...like girls, Clem? If you don't mind answering."

"I...uh..." Clementine swallowed. "I mean...maybe? I don't know. I just... Do... How would you know that?"

Kate's smile was motherly. "You know, Mariana asked the same thing when she was really little. 'Kate, Kate, when would I know I like boys?' And I told her that, if you have to ask, you probably already know." She shrugged. "Maybe...it was different then, before everything went to shit. Maybe it was easier knowing and learning these things. But, you'll know, Clementine, you'll know. You'll notice more things that you like, you'll feel new things. It's not an easy thing to teach because most adults don't know what they're doing."

"Oh. Okay." Clementine scratched her neck and drew her eyes towards the end of the bed for a moment. "But does it feel like anything?"

"Intense," Kate answered immediately. "It's one of the best feelings when you're with the right person, Clementine—whomever he or she may be for you," Kate then explained. Clementine suddenly felt a rush of shame; she immediately thought back to the junkyard. Mariana. Her smile and her words, how they made Clementine feel those strange things. Clementine didn't feel it appropriate to say anything. Kate wasn't finished, however, breaking her away from her thoughts: "Though, I'd say it's second to being a mom. I know...I'm not Mariana's or Gabe's mom—or yours—but, it's a good feeling."

Clementine nodded, finally on the same page.

"I know what that's like," she whispered, her throat tight. Clementine rested her head on her hand, reaching for her back pocket with the other. She took out one of A.J's scribble-drawings—the only one she had—and showed it to Kate. Immediately, the woman grinned with a soft laugh. "My little goofball drew that after...I had to say goodbye."

"Where is he now?" Kate asked, handing back the drawing.

Clementine stared at the paper. "McCarroll Ranch. I think I know where that is..." Her eyes burned and a tear dropped. As she rubbed them, Kate reached over and stroked her shoulder. "I thought he was dead for so long. He got sick, so I became a part of this place and... They kicked me out after I stole medicine for him. But..."

"It's okay, Clem," Kate murmured, embracing her despite her still-healing wound. "You're very protective, aren't you? You'll get him back."

"I know, and I will. After we get out of this hellhole, I will."

After a moment of silence, Kate pulled away. "Now," she sniffed, "how about we figure out those pads?" Clementine chuckled quietly, her eyes wandering towards the box.

While Kate started to open the box, Clementine said, "Thank-you...really. For not making all of this so _weird_."

"It shouldn't be," Kate replied. "It's just a part of life. And, in any case, you probably need to know about this stuff more now than back then." She analyzed the box. Clementine leaned in curiously. "Now...okay..."

Yelling erupted from the other room. Clementine and Kate both narrowed their eyes at the door. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO FUCKING SHOT HIM, JAVI! YOU AND CLEM—"

"I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

Clementine swallowed, avoiding Kate's gaze. As the shouting continued, she slowly shifted her eyes towards the woman. Kate's lips were pursed, focused on the door. Upon realizing Clementine was nervous, she murmured, grimly, "Javier already told me—briefly. I... It's fine, Clem, it wasn't your fault."

"I-I know, just...when?"

Kate furrowed her brows, then shook her head slowly. "You were gone, I think we were heading to the main gate. With my side, I definitely I missed a lot of the things he said. Javi was in a panic." Kate looked at Clementine, curious. "What did happen?"

"Conrad, he—" Clementine held the brand on her arm through her sleeve. "He found out I was a part of the New Frontier, and Javi tried to protect me, but things escalated and— Well, another Eli."

"Eli?"

Clementine felt her stomach slosh. "Oh, uh...yeah..." She fidgeted. "Nobody...told you? I...accidentally shot a man the night before. Javi and I slept in a cell."

Kate groaned, resting her forehead in her palm. With another long sigh, she mumbled, "You really are trouble, aren't you?" Clementine's shrug was sheepish. Kate shook her head, something like a bitter, humored grin spreading. "This is a shit world," she said as the room quaked, the front door having slammed shut with heavy boots stomping down the corridor. "Everything can fall apart just like that. No matter what you do."

"I...yeah." They remained silent in the room for a long time, Clementine absent-mindedly reading the flowery box as Kate counted the cracks in the walls.

**[. . .] **

"Okay, so we get that truck and then we wait for your call?"

Gathered in the kitchen were Javier, Ava, Eleanor, and Gabe (off in the corner of the room, arms folded), with Clementine and Katie finally out of the room. Clementine watched Eleanor for a moment, pulled in two separate directions: a giddy irk at the base of her stomach that she _finally _understood (and hated; Eleanor was a fucking _bitch,_ yeah?), and a rush of caution once she saw something stir relentlessly behind Eleanor's eyes.

"What about a truck?" Clementine asked.

Javier eyed her over his shoulder with a knowing look. Clementine raised her hands dismissively. "It's for getting all of us out of here with David after Joan's little ceremony."

Ava nodded. "Right." She looked out of the window, the full moon just rising. "You better wait a few hours, though. There are still many people awake on shift now. And the further out you go, the more people tend to sleep on their shift at night."

"That's helpful to know," Javier said, adding, "thanks."

"And good to hear," Clementine murmured. "I think everybody needs some rest."

Ava said, "Yeah. You better. There's a lot at stake tomorrow, and it's best to do that with a clear head." She backed away from the group, towards the front door. "Anyway, I'm going to Joan. I'll keep an eye on things, okay?"

"Right, thanks," Javier said, the rest of the group murmuring along.

Gabe sought to catch Clementine's eye as she meandered towards the couch at the corner of the room, stretching. The others sat at the dinner table, further discussing plans. "Hey, er, Clem!" She turned around. "Oh...um...when Javi and I went to the armory, I saved you this." He offered her a pistol.

Clementine, answered, "It's fine, I have another." Once Gabe was visibly disappointed, she felt guilt rest on her shoulders; did she always have to do that? "Well..." she added, "I guess I need a spare too." Gabe brightened and eagerly handed her the weapon. "Now, I'm going to go take a nap on the couch, so..."

"Oh, good night."

She chuckled and shook her head. "I'm only going to be asleep for an hour or two." She sat on the couch. "But, whatever, good night." Clementine leaned back, tucking her flask within her arms and her cap on her lap. She sighed with her eyes falling close.

And, just like that, Clementine fell asleep.

Gabe kept his eyes on the flask she held and frowned. He turned around, almost surprised to find Javier by his side. "Uncle Javi?" he asked quietly.

"What's up?"

He watched her for a second. "Why...does she carry that thing around? Doesn't she know it's bad for her? Like the weed you and Kate smoke."

Javier's expression grew sheepish, then thoughtful. "Yes, it is. Why do you ask?"

"Well, aren't we gonna do something?" Gabe narrowed his eyes, and turned to Javier. If Javier was _truly_ friends with Clementine, enough of one to shoot a man over, then... "For her?!"

His uncle sighed, then shook his head. "Come over here, we can give her some space." They strolled into the kitchen, Gabe constantly looking over his shoulder. Behind the counter, Javier took a knee and rested his hand on Gabe's elbow. Gabriel's fist clenched, but he let the hand stay. "Now," he breathed, "there are...some things you don't quite understand, that I've—me _and_ Kate—have really never told you. And...I know your heart is in the right place. I know you're trying to do the right thing, and you're a lot like your dad in that way. But...Gabe, before I tell you what I have to tell you, you need to keep yourself in line. Control your impulses—something that David has trouble doing."

Javier swallowed, grateful that he maintained Gabe's undivided attention. "I know she's your friend, Gabe, and she's mine too. And...a few nights ago, I got to know her very well, probably a lot more than everybody else in this room combined."

"From just a night...?"

"It...was a long one," Javier replied. "Now, with Clementine...what she's experiencing is something that I'm glad you don't understand. It means you're still a kid." Gabe frowned and crossed his arms, pulling away from Javier's hand. He rested his knuckles against the ground. "You are, Gabe, yet you are close to being a man too. But Clementine, things she had to do, the things she experiences, she hasn't been a kid for a long, long time.

"Sometimes adults go through life and hit a low. So they turn to something for support. Drinking. Smoking. Drugs." Javier gave a bitter laugh. "Gambling... It's to avoid a big problem in their life."

"But what about _family? Or people?!_"

"Gabe..." Javier murmured through clenched teeth, "enough with it. It is done."

He tightened his jaw, a hand firmly planted on his beanie; begrudgingly, he let Conrad go—for now. Gabe pressed, "You don't need to do all that stuff. Fuck drinking. Fuck all those drugs!"

Javier nodded slowly. "And I agree one-hundred percent there, buddy. I do. It's just, that's not always that obvious." Gabe frowned. The concept of not wanting family was foreign. He worked his jaw and watched Javier with minor contempt. That was right. Javier wasn't always around, was he? "And...with Clementine, this is something she will struggle with for the rest of her life. Unlike me, her issues aren't out of selfish reasons or money."

"So? That... That means we have to help her! We can't just—" Gabe struggled to find his next few words. "We can't just let her do that! It's not right. She needs us."

"Gabe," Javier warned, "buddy, keep your cool, remember? Right now, there's not a lot we can do—"

"Bullshit," Gabe whispered. "We need to help her. Just...we can take it away—"

"_Mijo_, listen!" Javier hissed. "No, that is not how that works. Gabe, I know you're trying to help, but that is going to cause a lot more problems. Instead of fighting with her, you will be fighting her _and_ the alcohol." He sighed heavily. "She has to make that first move. You can't think of her as someone to fix, Gabe. The only person in the world that can fix Clementine is Clementine."

"But—"

"You've got to trust me on this. When the time presents itself, then we can help her. Right now, all we can do is make sure she doesn't end up killing herself because of it."

Gabe's thoughts whirled. Kill herself?! Could she die from drinking?! He didn't know. He always thought all alcohol did was make a person erratic. "What?!" he whispered harshly. "But she needs family! She—"

"Clementine _is_ family, Gabe. She already is," Javier said. "We just need to be there for now. And...when she asks for our help, we'll give it to her."

"But what if she doesn't? When could we step in?!"

Javier nodded. "That's always the question, isn't it?" He furrowed his brows. "There will be a time, though. Maybe it won't be as obvious as her directly asking, but there will be." Javier stood up. "Now, you can go and look after her, okay? I'll be over there at the table."

"O-Okay..." As Javier left, Gabe lingered in the kitchen. He held his elbow and looked at Clementine. Slowly, he walked towards her and sat in the chair across from the couch.

**[. . .] **

She raced across the playground, chasing the butterflies as they fluttered from the teacher's hands. Her fellows were faceless, and their voices were mute. But it didn't stop her, no. The butterflies were dazzling. The colors of their wings were mesmerizing, and she was bewitched by the shapes of every one of them.

And she followed them, through the streets, laughter abound. Her chest felt lighter than it had for many, many years. Road to road, house to house—it all blended together before she ran through the pastures. The horses neighed and bucked and tossed their heads excitedly as they galloped alongside her, awed by the butterflies.

By the time the pasture's fencing came, she flew over them with ease, leaving the horses to whinny behind her. The butterflies, their colors lost saturation underneath the daunting sun. As she slowed, the little girl's laughter quieted.

A breeze clipped her cheeks as her hazel eyes looked on. What she found was a wheat field that was vast and never-ending. She swallowed, and to her side sat an innocent tree. The butterflies fluttered into its branches, melding along the wood. By the time she got to its base, there were only leaves. No mesmerizing, bewitching wings to be found.

She looked around, and—slowly—the little girl sat down on the log that rested beside the tree, waiting.

**[. . .] **

Clementine, for the past few hours, hadn't budged as she slept soundlessly, her flask within her crossed arms and cap on her lap. Gabe watched her from his own chair, eyes resting on the flask. Gabe's conversation with Javier came to mind, though he frowned. His father always told him to never take his uncle's words as truth. And that he was a coward behind all of that suave charm. He clenched his fists. But Javier had said... Still, if he couldn't see himself drink or do weed, Gabe thought Clementine wouldn't need to either. Yes, she wouldn't need to. Surely.

_The plains were calm, a façade masking the morbid reality of the world. Clementine sat alone on the log with the single oak tree shading her. Across the acres and on top of a rolling hill peak were two figures. She squinted. The figures stopped. Before Clementine stood up to follow them, she heard a twig snap behind her._

Gabe stood up and began to walk towards the couch. A floorboard groaned underneath him. He cringed, snapping his attention to Clementine. She only stirred and gently rolled a shoulder.

_Clementine turned around, her tight grasp around her knife. A small girl in a yellow dress clutched the trunk of the tree, eyes wide. A cold tremor ran up Clementine's spine. This girl… When did anybody come across little girls anymore? "Oh...um...hi there. What are yo—" The girl backed away and ran. "Wait!" Clementine reached for her. "Wait, I'm not..." As she disappeared into the tall grass, Clementine finished her dying sentence: "...going to hurt you."_

Her fingers fidgeted around the flask as Gabe reached for it. He paused, his gut twisting sourly. Maybe Gabe shouldn't. "Clementine...?" Was it a dream? Or was she finally getting up? "Are you awake...?"

_The urge to tear through the golden grass was all too much for her. Clementine soared across the open fields after the girl, swiping and hacking away at the farmland. "Wait! Come back! Where are you going?! Who— Who are you?!" The girl didn't answer. Clementine didn't really expect her to. "Wait!"_

_When the first fleck of snow clipped her cheeks, Clementine shivered. Then the chill multiplied. Down her neck. Across her arms. Through her legs. Clementine shielded her eyes as a blizzard swarmed around her, its jagged fury biting her skin. From her arms, Clementine peered into the snow. She spotted the silhouette of the girl. With her throat knotted, she didn't call out._

Gabe stood over her, awkwardly. He scratched the back of his head. "Come on...it's not that hard. Just...think of _something,_ Gabe!" he hissed to himself. From the other room, through the kitchen, he heard Javier and Kate talking to Eleanor. He kept his voice low. "Just...okay, just slip it out and get it away from her and...then... Yeah, and then she'll not find it, not need it and..." He pursed his lips, frowning. "Yeah. Like...cold turkey." Gabe nodded.

He didn't heed Javier's warning. What did he know? _Javier_ was the one who gambled his life away. A coward, sympathizing with a girl who he'd rather have on his side than as an enemy—which Gabe didn't mind, of course. Javier was a _coward_; he may have cared for her, but Gabe _knew_ they could do something to save her. He knew—and felt, too—that Clementine was far more than a girl to just keep content. She needed to be happy and clean. And Gabe would help by making the first step. The step Javier couldn't make. The coward. Yes, yes..._coward_. The word replayed in his head like a broken record. Coward. Coward. Coward...

_Instead, Clementine charged after her. It wasn't until Clementine stumbled over a hard piece of junk did her chase end. The carcasses of cars littered the road. On all fours, she panted in the snow, exhausted. She stretched her hand towards the girl in yellow. "Come here, please... I just... I just want to talk to you!" The girl shook her head frantically before vanishing behind a curtain of white winds._

_In frustration, Clementine slammed her fist down into the snow, punching the road beneath. She winced at the pain and pulled out her hand. It was raw, skin cracking against the cold._

_"CLEMENTINE! CLEMENTINE, PLEASE!"_

It was surprisingly easy for Gabe to slip the flask from her hand. However, when Clementine suddenly jerked in the couch, murmuring softly, he dropped it onto the floor. Guilt immediately panged him, and his head swiveled from the flask to Clementine, then back again. She didn't need it. She didn't need it. _Nobody_ needed alcohol, and so didn't Clem.

Gabe swallowed. She... She didn't need it, right? Was that right? Was his father finally wrong and Javier was actually _correct_ for once?

_Clementine grasped the sides of her head tightly as she gasped. "No...no...no, no, no... Not this again. Please, please not this again." The blood-wrenching screams of Jane that shook her to the core were abruptly silenced._

"Hey..." Gabe said softly. "Hey...are you... Are you...okay, Clem?" He raised his hand, letting it hang there for a moment.

Clementine shivered. "Not...not again... No...no..." she breathed quietly, her voice rattling at its base.

"Clem...?" Gabe grew worried. What could he do? His heart pounded behind his ears.

_A shot fired. Clementine stripped her hands from her face. They were blood-red. A mark of a culprit. A murderer. A killer. She was going to hell. "No...no..." She would have if her parents managed to drag her down with them. "No...no...no..._

"K-Kenny... I'm so...sorry," she whispered quietly.

Gabe frowned. "Um...Clem...you're, you're dreaming. You're... You're alright." He swallowed as his voice cracked. Gabe's eyes switched to the other room. He hoped they had noticed by now. That they'd come to his side and fix the mess he made. Gingerly, he touched her shoulder in comfort.

Immediately, eyes of golden whiskey and hellfire snapped open.

He barely had time to react as Clementine pounced, shoving him to the wall. He squeaked. Her iron-clad hand pinned his shoulder down with terrifying ease; Gabe swallowed, and he stared down the barrel of the pistol. But his eyes flicked to her own. "C-Clem...it's just me... Please...I didn't mean to—"

Oh, what beast lived within them? It had to have been a dragon. And, by God, he woke it from its slumber, didn't he? A monster? Whatever plagued her.

And yet, her gaze fractured. Clementine's eyes widened, and she backed away. She collapsed onto the couch, setting the pistol onto her cap. "God... You can't _do_ that Gabe... You scared the fuck out of me," she said, hoarse.

"I-I know... I'm sorry."

Clementine groped her hip with a frown. "Where's my flask?"

Gabe's eyes widened. "Oh, h-here..." He quickly handed it back to her. "I...um..."

"Thanks," she grumbled.

"Oh...uh...no...no problem." Gabe tried to even his breathing as he stepped back, only to notice Kate, Javier and Eleanor standing in the kitchen. How long were they there for? What did they see?

Javier strode towards them. "What happened?" he whisper-hissed.

"I...um...I— Well...er..."

"It was another dream, Javi, that's all," Clementine murmured.

Javier's expression grew solemn. "Oh, I see." He met Gabe's eyes. "And you...?"

"Um..."

He sighed and shook his head. "I should've known." Gabe felt crestfallen. "You always do learn the hard way, don't you?" Javier asked softly.

"I..." Gabe glanced at Clementine who paid no mind, nursing her flask. The look in her eyes was blank, her thoughts far, far away. "I didn't mean—"

"I know, Gabe. I know. Just...think about what I said, alright?" He watched Clementine for a moment. "And...that wasn't your fault, Gabe. That's just...what happens. It happened to me too before we got to the junk yard. _That_ had nothing to do with you, okay? It's just why—"

"She drinks." Gabe frowned. In a low voice, so that Clementine wouldn't possibly be able to hear, he asked, "Do... Do you know who Kenny is?"

"Don't ask her that, okay?" Javier murmured. "Just promise me that you'll keep an eye on her whenever things get bad, _okay?"_

Gabe nodded. He certainly would. Regardless if Javier killed Conrad, or gamble his life away, or shut away his family, Gabe couldn't fathom anything else. Regardless if David told him not to take his uncle's words as truth, if truth itself had proved Uncle Javi's words, then what choice did he have?

**[. . .]**

They roamed in pairs, Clementine and Javier taking the lead while Gabe and Kate followed. All was quiet underneath the half-moon's light, and Clementine hoped that meant nearly-everybody on shift would be asleep as Ava promised. Behind her, she heard Javier sharply whisper, "Uncle? Do you have the truck in sight?"

She rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder. Her small grin was in sharp contrast against Gabe and Kate's befuddled stares. "Uncle...?" Gabe asked slowly. Kate shrugged.

"No, not— Wait, it's there." Where Ava promised them. Along a chain-linked fence, they looked into the yard. Across them was a metal barn, surely housing the truck.

"Alright," Javier whispered, his joking smile wiped away. "Clem, you and I will head inside to get the truck. Gabe and Kate—" he turned to their earnest gazes— "be ready for anything." He pulled open the sliding gate with Clementine armed and ready.

As she took one step through, Gabe scoffed. Both she and Javier turned to him. "Oh I see what's going on," he hissed. "You're punishing me for telling everybody what happened, right? Screw that, _I'm_ going to get the truck, and _you_ stay behind to keep watch."

"We all have a job to do," Javier said sternly. "This has nothing to do with _shit_. Grow. up. Now is not the time to be thinking about the past, or any petty bullshit."

Gabe frowned, working his jaw for a retort. Clementine inhaled, stepping back through the fence. "Hey, Gabe," she said softly, "I need somebody to watch my back, okay?"

Immediately—to Clementine's relief—he paused, then nodded dutifully. "O-Okay, well _somebody_ has to be look-out."

Clementine pulled a smile over her face, one that didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks." Her smile dropped and eyebrows rose as she saw Kate chuckle from over Gabe's shoulder. "What?" she hissed.

Kate shook her head. "Nothing. Gabe and I will be fine back here."

Clementine nodded, stepping back through the fence. Javier, under his breath, whispered, "Quick thinking."

"It's come in handy," she replied.

Javier chuckled, following her while Gabe and Kate stepped through, only to remain close to the gate, eyes peeled. He looked around, noting how secluded the area was—especially that the fence was the only obvious way out. To his left stood Gabe, who leaned against a brick toolshed. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed and gaze on Clementine.

There was a heavy sigh. Javier walked to his nephew, who eyed him bitterly the closer Javier was. "What do you want, Javi?"

"Look, Gabe, I understand, okay?" Gabe shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "I know you want to help. I know you want to do the right thing, but there's a lot at stake, and we need everybody to do their part, and do their part _well._ You know? Clem and I can't watch our own backs while trying to pull a damn truck out."

"I— Yeah, I get it," Gabe spat, "but _that's_ the problem. She— She's _my_ age, and you don't treat her like a kid! But you do with me!"

Javier closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. "Gabriel." His voice shook through his effort to control it. "What did I tell you not _two _fucking hours ago?! She. Is. Not. A. Kid. I told you. She grew up too fast, okay? Clementine had the luxury of being a teenager stolen from her. She can't just fuck up and it be okay—"

"What, so now I'm a fuck-up?!"

"_No, _that is not what I said."

"I-I— I don't care what you say! I get that she's not like me, but _you're_ the one that killed him! You're the one who threw his life away, and— I can't tell if what you say is good enough!"

Javier grabbed the air in front of him tightly. He swore this _kid_ was like a pendulum. "Good enough? _Good enough?! _Have you not learned a single damn thing I've taught you?" He planted his hand against his chest. "Gabe, you sacrifice for family—that's what my mama and papi told all of us! And now, it's real. You have to _sacrifice_ for your family! He had you, and I was scared. Don't you remember that?! He had you at gunpoint, and I didn't want you to die!"

Gabe swallowed, his eyes stinging. "W-Well, well _you— _You— What makes you think Clementine knows that more than I do?"

Javier deflated, his strength and anger seeping out of him. "Because, buddy," he said weakly, "she knows what it's like. She knows what it means to kill for survival." Gabe's face softened, his eyes drifting towards Clementine. "She drinks..." He watched her lean against a wall tiredly, eyes sunk to the ground as she ignored the walkers clawing the blocked paths. "And drinks..." She reached for the flask, and brought it to her lips; from there, Gabe could barely see the numbing pain as the alcohol slipped its way down her throat. "To forget that. Do you understand now?"

His nod was soft. Dismal. Gabe's eyes wandered to Javier with a solemn curiosity. "Kenny...?"

"Do not ask her that."

Javier stood up, eyes to Clementine as she stashed her drink, wiping her mouth. The words from the past couple of days haunted him. _"'For all we know, you talk to her, and she might not be completely sober.' ... 'There's something in her eyes I don't like... Some say she killed Eli in cold blood. Did she?'"_

Though, the ghost of his own were far, far more devastating: _"'You're not drinking to kill yourself, are you? You're drinking to forget how to live...'"_

He tore himself away from his thoughts. Javier began to search the area. Along the sides where muertos were blocked. Towards the bundle of construction vehicles. All too slow. All too small for four people.

He noted Clementine's focus on the semi-closed garage. At her side, he asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Like shit." With a twisted smirk, Clementine looked up at Javier. "Nothing new." Javier chuckled lightly as she jerked her chin towards the garage. "Seriously though? I spy some set of wheels in that."

Javier strolled closer, crouching to look below. "There it is," he breathed with a grin. Of course. An armory-truck. He waved Clementine over. "Come on!" he whisper-hissed. Together, they pushed the garage door open. They then slinked beside the truck, away from the view of the small office in the corner. With his hand on the door handle, Javier grew nervous. "What are the chances?"

Clementine worked her jaw in thought. "I'd say, fifty-fifty."

A deep breath, and the company of Kate and Gabe to boot, Javier pulled it open. He released his breath with, "Smart-ass." As he began to clamber over the seats, searching for the keys to the ignition, the lights went on in the office, blanketing the side of the truck in rows of light. "Shit!" Javier ducked down, resting against the tire. "How are they up _now?!"_

Clementine groaned, muttering, "Early bird catches the worm, I guess."

"Yeah, right," he grumbled as Gabe and Kate joined them on their knees. "And what's in that?" he asked, nodding towards her hip.

Her short answer was almost gleeful: "Apple." So apple was the recipe for a smart-ass—go figure.

Javier rolled his eyes. With a plan in mind, he said, "Okay. We're not going to be able to start the engine without attracting a lot of attention. Kate, you steer while the rest of us push from behind. We can get distance before heading off."

Kate nodded. "Right. How far do you think?"

"Far enough that we're driving, and they're running." Kate slowly opened the door and slipped inside.

Gabe followed Javier and Clementine towards the back. "I'm ready," he said. Javier nodded appreciatively, leaning against it. Gabe locked eyes with Clementine for the briefest of moments. While she watched Javier, Gabe rested his gaze on her hands. The hands that took lives. The hands that killed.

_Kenny's killer._

Only...he couldn't think of Clementine as a _killer_. That... That couldn't've been true. Yet, deep down, he knew it was.

Javier murmured, ordering them to push. With his lead, they did so, gradually rolling the boxed-truck out of the garage.

In the center of the open space, Gabe remained quiet as Javier and Kate murmured to one another. "I couldn't find the ignition key. You're going to have to hotwire it."

Gabe glanced at Clementine, who appeared to be analyzing the car. She grumbled at the news, muttering, "Can't ever catch a fucking break."

Curiously, to numb his frantic thoughts, Gabe asked, "What do you mean?"

"I need a car," Clementine said, "and your uncle and I have a deal."

"Oh. Right."

Javier—having gone and found the needed tools in a nearby box—got to work as Kate circled the truck, watching the men in the office through the garage. Clementine pulled out her knife, eyes out on the walkers reaching through the boarded walls. Light exploded from the truck, and not a minute later, so did several walkers through a wall.

"Javi..." she hissed, snaking around the side. "Javi! Hurry up!"

"I know, I just— Fuck. There!" The engine roared, raising the groans of the walkers around. He raised his voice for Kate: "Let's go, now!" All four immediately hurled themselves for the truck as men and walkers alike charged after them, from the sides and garage respectively. Javier didn't hesitate. They charged out of the area, all grinning victoriously to themselves as the men were left swarmed by the undead.

**[. . .]**

The truck rolled to a stop on a quiet street, only one streetlamp on. Above, the morning colors started to roll in. Javier put it in park. "We can stop here. We're a few blocks away, and we'll be safe."

Beside him, Kate said, "And while we wait, we'll watch the sun come up."

"We have something better to do," Gabe said, pulling out a deck of cards. "I'm gonna teach you how to play Euchre."

Clementine arched a brow as she sipped on her flask. She eyed him and leaned against the back-bench opposite of Gabe. Swallowing, she asked, "Uh...what? Is that a real thing?"

"Sure it is!" Gabe said, handing her a hand of cards. "Come on, I'll show you. So..."

Kate chuckled from the front seat, eyes back in front. "Oh, it's nice having two kids in the backseat again. Takes you back, doesn't it? Just you and me, Gabe and...Mari."

Javier nodded, his small smile gentle. "Yeah, oh yeah. Those were good times. Out on the road, going wherever... It's, it's hard to think about now, but..."

"I know," Kate whispered. "It... It is."

"Why the fuck does this game have to be so convoluted?!"

At Clementine's competitive frustration, Gabe laughed. "I gotcha!"

"No, that— That's not even a good rule!"

"Still gotcha..."

Warmly, Kate said, "Guess he's stopped playing it cool with her."

To say Javier was confused was a bit of an understatement. "Hmm?"

"Uh, in case you haven't noticed, Gabe's got a little crush on Clementine," she whispered cheekily. Javier's eyes widened, and he looked into the back; he caught Gabe's glance (and grin) at Clementine as she glared at her cards. "He like-likes her, you get it?"

Javier chuckled, turning his attention back to Kate. "Well, can't say I'm_ that_ surprised. Must be nice seeing a girl his age," he said quietly. "But..."

"But?"

He glanced at Gabe once more in pity. "I have a feeling Clem's a little heartbreaker, and I'd hate for that to happen."

Kate nodded. "Yeah. I know, it's just nice that Gabe's a bit more cheerful, right?" She thought for a moment. "Did she tell you...?"

"What?"

She shrugged. "Oh, during our talk, she asked some things. About...girls." Javier snorted. "What's so funny?"

Javier shook his head. "No, it's just..." He leaned in, with a flat hand shielding his mouth from the back. "You didn't hear this from me, but she has a little thing for Eleanor."

"Oh?"

Javier giggled quietly, and added, "Especially..." He pointed at Kate's breasts.

Alongside him, Kate was in a fit of chuckles, which only grew once Gabe asked, "What about Eleanor?"

Javier turned around, grinning. Gabe was oblivious, watching his uncle curiously for an answer. Clementine, however, was a stark red in the cheeks, eyes sharp. "Oh, it's nothing Gabe. Just go back to your game." Gabe nodded suspiciously, though his eagerness to spend his time with Clementine overruled his list of questions. Clementine focused her eyes on the cards, mirroring Gabe, aside from her hand in the air, finger out. It only added to Javier's chortles.

"Even then, I think it's good for him. To feel something so natural?" Kate continued. "You rarely get that now, you know? And now, for a few minutes, they can just _be_ and not worry about that."

"Stop cheating!"

"I don't know the fucking rules!"

"But I just told you them!"

"I don't care! I'm going to win!"

Javier grinned. "I wonder how they'd be if everything stayed normal. You know?"

"Yeah...yeah..." She shook her head. "It's not fair, you know? I know we tried our best to let them be kids, raise them right, but...the shit they see. I can't even... Mariana. I couldn't save her from that. She didn't deserve it. Neither of them did."

"You did what you could," Javier said. "It's not your fault, trust me. They still experienced growing up, you know? At least that's something they both have that Clementine..."

Kate pursed her lips, nodding. "She could teach Gabe a thing or two, couldn't she?"

"She could teach all of us a thing or two."

"You two really are two peas in a pod, aren't you?"

Javier floundered over his words. "Well, I mean, we got to know each other well in the past few days. It's...yeah, I guess." He listened to the card game in the back for a few moments, then watched Kate. Her eyes were to her lap, focused. She was debating something, Javier knew. "Kate, what is it?"

"Before... Before whatever happens when that sun comes up, I... I have to ask you...this thing between us? It's confusing and, and we've had moments but, I just want, I-I want to give it a chance. We might not get another, and...and I just... Maybe, maybe I should have stayed quiet. I—"

He answered his thumping, joyful heart. "Let's go for it," Javier said. "We got to try, right?"

Kate nearly jumped in her seat. "Oh my god, really?" As words rushed out of her mouth, Javier leaned in, and pecked her lips. And once he pulled away, he smiled. Javier caught Clementine's blank stare, her flask at her lips. He blushed, shrugging meekly as she rolled her eyes and took her sip; as she put away her flask though, her small grin was supportive.

"Uh...right, here," Gabe mumbled, ignoring whatever happened in the front (he didn't want to know).

Javier turned back to Kate, noting her slight frown. "We're... We're going to have to tell David, no? I didn't want to before because, you know, we didn't...but it's right. He has to know, even if we were pulling apart."

"Yeah," Javier whispered. "I... Yeah. We can do it. We have to." They sat, finally acknowledging the barrier that had separated them; they danced around it, they avoided it, but now, knowing the barrier will have his heart shattered, they knew they had to brave it.

In the back, Clementine thought as she stared at the cards in her hands. _"It's not an easy thing to teach because most adults don't know what they're doing." Yeah...no shit._

Ava's voice erupted from the walkie-talkie in the cup-holder. _"It's an execution out here. Joan's planning to kill David in front of the whole crowd!" _Clementine felt her gut itch. She strode over, mindful of the truck's ceiling. _"Don't bring the truck over here, they'll kill him right away! Just get into the squa—"_

The itch grew to a punch. Clementine looked at Javier, worried. "I don't trust this, Javi," she said. "Something's not right."

"Shit, I know. We got to get over there, now!"

Kate nodded in a rush. "I'll watch over the truck and pull in once you're ready. Go!"

Clementine, Gabe and Javier jumped off, dashing away. Clementine's eyes wandered in between the alleyways. The crowd took up all of the city's square. She swallowed. Clementine made sure her hand was ready for her pistol.

The only rival of foul play was suspicion, after all.

**[. . .]**

All it took was one gunshot.

One gunshot, and Joan's fallen body.

Clementine ducked into the subway entrance. Everywhere dirt rose and stung her eyes. Everywhere people crumpled to the ground. Everywhere bullets rained. She added to the hail of gunfire, managing two or three casualties before Javier swooped in beside her. "You were negotiating! Why the hell would you shoot her?!"

"Don't tell me you wouldn't've!" Javier barked back, firing a few rounds into another man.

Clementine scowled. "You and I both know I'm not exactly a saint— _Fuck!"_ As tear gas was hurled over the short wall of cover they had, Javier's walkie-talkie buzzed. He answered Kate, coughing, and they both rushed out from the subway entrance. Clementine couldn't hear the conversation with the insistent ring in her ears. She only caught the last of it:

"No, no! Kate!" Javier growled to himself.

Clementine felt the moment freeze as she watched the armored truck barrel down the street. Within the sun's early morning glow and haze of dust was pure chaos. People stumbled. People lost balance. People perished.

She ran. She remained steady. She killed.

It was only until Javier shoved her out of the way of the truck did she finally plummet to the road.

**[. . .]**

The screams outside were distant through the single door, which was barricaded. In the stairwell, they were bathed in red light, hiding the blood that stained their clothes. Blood of _innocence._

"This should be good. Nobody's getting through that anytime soon." Javier set his hands on his hips as the group watched the door blocked by an array of furniture. Walkers scratched at the door, though it didn't budge.

David turned towards Gabe. "You put up a good fight out there," he said, undoubtedly surprised.

Clementine could almost feel Gabe's equal shock from beside her. "Hey...Dad." He grinned softly. "I'm glad you made it out."

Kate—whose eyes were kept to the door—remained unconvinced of their security. "Joan's probably looking for us," she murmured, worried.

"No," Gabe said, eyes narrowed and grin snatched away. He pointed to his uncle's chest. "Javi shot her!"

"What?!" Kate looked at Javier for confirmation.

David gave it to her: "Good riddance," he growled.

Gabe ignored him. "I heard you two, you were negotiating! You didn't have to kill her!"

"She was lying, Gabe!" Javier said, arms raised. "I couldn't trust a word from that woman! I didn't believe she was going to hold up her end of the deal, and David would be dead!"

"So why didn't anybody shoot us?! We were outnumbered, and they only shot after—"

"Javi's right," David argued, stepping forward. "Joan had to go. I would have done it too."

"That's because you don't mind killing people, do you?" Gabe snapped. He balled a fist as he added, "I'm tired of being told people have to die!"

"Gabe," Javier said, "that's not fair. You know—"

Gabriel scowled, shook his head and walked towards the other side of the stairwell, behind both his father and uncle. "Hey! You_ do_ not walk away from me!" David snapped. "When someone speaks to you, you stand up and answer them!"

Javier put out his arm between them. "Hold on, David. Gabe's not a little kid anymore—"

"So you're saying you allowed him to do this?!"

"No. He does need to answer," Javier said, glancing behind him, "but you can't just blow up either."

"I-I'm just!" David sighed, stepping forward. "I'm trying to protect you, Gabe. I lost you once...and I won't let it happen again. Okay?"

As Gabe digested his father's words, Javier said, "Just be glad we made it out alive."

"Right." David said, "We need to check the other entrances. Make sure they're secured." He walked to the stairs leading to the basement, then turned around. "Do you want to help, Gabe?" Gabe didn't speak, far too stunned to do anything. "Gabriel?!"

Javier, gently, said, "You can go help him."

"Alright..."

Clementine, with her eyes steady on David, frowned. "I'll go help too." David turned towards her with a hint of gratitude.

He walked down the stairs, Clementine and Gabe behind him. They removed themselves from the cracked sunlight—split through the few windows—and into the dismal bank of shadows. Clementine tightened her jaw. Gabe strayed behind, leaving David and Clementine to talk in low mutters: "How'd Lingard die, Clementine? You were there, weren't you?"

"He felt nothing. It was from some drug he had in a syringe. He asked me to," Clementine answered. They walked onwards, down the halls. With each door they passed, they found that the majority had been blocked from years ago—stacked with heavy furniture, dust and the occasional mold. "I know where A.J is," she murmured.

"And you're actually going after him?"

Clementine sneered. "Of course I am. He's all I have left."

At another door, Gabe took the initiative and started to drag furniture to close it off. David stepped forward to help along with Clementine, but he shook his head. "I got it, okay?" Gabe mumbled.

David frowned, though left it be. There were other matters. "He's safe, okay? There's no need to 'rescue' him, Clementine."

"That isn't going to stop me. I was there when he was born. I was the only one who took care of him. I watched his first steps! I fed him!" Clementine glared at David. "And you took that away, but now I'm getting him back once all this hell is gone!"

Gabe walked past them, ignoring David. "And...I get that." The calm in his voice caught Clementine off-guard. "I do. We're more alike than you think."

"Are we now?"

David's gaze slid to her, and he nodded. "You'd be one of the best soldiers there was. You thrive in this world, don't you?"

Clementine clenched her jaw. "You don't know shit about what I do in this world. I survive, like everyone else."

"Alone. Not even an adult." David chuckled. "Tell me, what was one of the first things you did when this war started?"

"Hid in my treehouse." Once it popped out of her mouth, Clementine internally cursed.

"Pretty smart for somebody that age," he said. "And I'm assuming you weren't a drunk—"

"Do_ not_ call me that."

David ignored her. "Well, even with that drink, you've been a little terror around here for the runners, haven't you? You do know that the one girl's nose is never going to be straight again, right? It's still broken." Clementine remained silent, almost an apology. David hummed with a firm brow. "Let me guess, you didn't take anything for granted, did you? All this time? Right from the start? You understood what this meant. You never underestimated anything." He kept his gaze forward, sure that Gabe was listening by his slowed pace. He continued anyhow: "And all the other kids around you couldn't cope, did they? Oblivious to every sign, or crumpled under the pressure."

"I get it! I wasn't fucking like all the others! That doesn't mean I'm like _you."_

"And yet..." he lowered his voice to a soft hiss, "you took my extra flask." Her fist tightened.

David watched her, pitifully. "I don't belong in cities, or a home, or any civilian community. I belong out on the field. But I am still human, like you." They pressed forward, turning the last corner. "I have the same dreams as you. I sometimes see things that aren't there. The people I've killed haunt me."

She halted abruptly. Her eyes stung, and her teeth were bared. He stopped, and put his hand on her shoulder. "You are a soldier, Clem. You belong in this world, whether you like it or not. It is second nature. You are like me, and I know you hate it. You want to be like my brother, don't you?"

"Who I want to be is dead. That's. It."

"I know. I see it in your eyes." Clementine stared at him, blind to Gabe watching their conversation. "I see all of them in your eyes... Men. Women. …children. Friends and family. Absolute strangers." Clementine backed away, the color draining from her face. "I see them all…" he whispered. And she stared back into his eyes, which all of a sudden looked so tired.

David asked one final thing before leaving her for his son:

"Do you see mine?"

**[. . .]**

Back at the room, David opened the door, and Clementine found a man lying on the couch, a woman beside him, Javier, Kate and— She narrowed her eyes. Eleanor. There was no giddy irk anymore, only seething anger. She _knew_ that Eleanor was scheming. She had a chance to stop her. Shoot her between her eyes. Anything. Anything instead of sleeping on the couch.

The room, though, had a strange tension. It was eerily calm aside from the worried whispers by the couch, like a terrible storm had just passed. Clementine kept her livid surge to herself. Reason bled into her thoughts. Eleanor was a nurse and, she regretted to admit, the only one for miles at that.

"Fern and Rufus..." Clementine slipped her gaze back to the couch. David asked, "What's wrong with them?"

Eleanor, throat cleared, said, "Bitten. He's slipping in and out of delirium."

"Ida," Rufus croaked. "we have to find our daughta... We..."

"Oh my god," Javier breathed, just within earshot of Clementine, "that's the man I let go." Clementine watched Rufus closely. The semi. Her tree. Clementine swallowed. Javier bound by his wrists. And then, her shotgun. The chocolate he would've given to Maria—

"Let's give them a minute, so—"

Fern, holding an axe, cut across Eleanor. "Y'all get over here! You gotta... You gotta cut his arm off!" Everybody stared for a moment. The woman was spastic, trembling out of desperation. It was a wonder how she could hold the axe, even with her sturdy arms and strong hands.

Eleanor shook her head. "We can't. I'm sorry, he's too far along."

"Bullshit! It's only been a few hours!" Fern snapped. She pounded her chest with the flat edge of the tool. "I've seen it work before!"

"Do you want his last moments alive more painful than they need to be?"

"I just want to try," Fern said weakly, with cracks in her tone. "I can't_ lose_ everyone. Please!" Javier shifted, and Clementine felt her gut twist. Fern had noticed as well. His pity, and his heroic nature. "Please, I'm begging you. Please."

"I... I-I can try," he mumbled hoarsely. Javier took the axe with a slight tremble and strode to the couch. David met him, pulled out Rufus' arm onto the pushed coffee table, all while ignoring Eleanor's pleas.

"I'm telling you, this isn't—!"

Javier winced, though he aimed nonetheless.

Clementine didn't expect the arm to be sliced off in one swing. She grimaced immediately as the room was refueled by a terrible storm of emotion. Rufus howled in pain, and blood poured unceasingly out of his arm. Clementine's eyes darted for anything—a rope, tape, string—as Javier and David backed away abruptly. However, Rufus' cries were extinguished within a moment. And it left the room to dip in a long, still silence.

"Rufus?" Fern shook his shoulder. Her quaking tremors of desperation distorted into those of fear. "Rufus?!"

"I..." Javier stuttered. "I didn't... Fern, I—"

Fern cried into her husband's shoulder as Eleanor, mindful to speak as gently as she could, growled, "I told you it wasn't going to work! And the blood-loss didn't help either!"

"I just—"

A pistol aimed for his head, promptly raising his arms. "YOU! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! I'VE LOST EVERYTHING!" Fern exploded, burying her request in the back of her mind. All at once, her tremors had subsided to be replaced by a sudden, blinded anger.

"I tried! I didn't mean anything to happen!"

"THE WALL! THE HERD!" Fern continued. "EVERYTHING!"

"I—"

Kate stepped in between them. "No! Fern... It was my fault!" she pleaded, pausing the widow's hysteria. "I-I'm responsible for the wall! It was me…! Forgive me, please! I want to make everything right!"

Fern's arm remained in the air. She trembled, tears streaming when—

Clementine gasped once David strode forward, snatched her wrist and punched her elbow inwards. Fern shrieked, crumpling to the ground as David continued to the couch. With her gun in his hands, he fired at Rufus, silencing the man mid-groan.

"DAVID!" Kate bellowed.

"Dad, what are you doing?!"

Amongst the angry yells, Clementine could only manage a "What...the fuck...?!" She exhaled sharply and snapped, "David?!"

David stood in the middle of his mess, watching his family (and Clementine, and Eleanor) in surprise. Javier said, "You didn't need to break her arm! That was too far, David!"

"Okay..." David blinked, absolutely puzzled. "Don't thank me."

Fern moaned in horror, and shuffled backwards along the couch's side. David's handgun aimed for her head as she nudged the pistol that was dropped to the floor. "No!" Gabe yelped, lunging for his father. No hesitation. David swung at Gabe, sending him to the floor without looking.

At the sound of Gabe's grunt, David jerked and blitzed around. "Gabe! I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean to—!"

"You were going to kill her!" Gabe coughed.

"She was going for her gun!"

"She's scared, Dad! No she wasn't! Look at her!" David did. All he found was Fern curled against the coffee table, her dead husband lying on the couch. Feet away from the pistol. Weeping. "What the hell, Dad?! She can't even stand up!"

"He—" Javier got to his knees beside his nephew. "He was just doing what he thought was right, even if it was overboard."

David growled to himself. "I didn't mean to do that, I'm sorry! You know I am!" Everybody backed away from him. He frowned. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Just, they're scared, David," Javier said, hands still raised.

"Of_ what?!_ I'm protecting them!" he snapped, forcing his handgun towards the floor pointedly.

"Then why are you waving a gun at us?!" Kate asked.

Clementine watched David as he looked at the weapon, and then slowly slid it into his holster. "So...I'm all alone," he whispered softly, defeated.

_"We're more alike than you think..."_ She glowered, and Clementine raised her head. David gazed at the line of people facing him. Alienating him. His eyes briefly rested on her._ "I see them in your eyes... Do you see mine?"_

Of course she did. It was one of the first things she knew about him. And she hated it. She hated it more than she hated recognizing Eleanor's beauty.

"Fine then," he grumbled, and she saw the people inside them—clearer. Men. Women. Friends and family. Absolute strangers… But no children. Something fidgeted deep in Clementine's chest. Was she worse, then…? Was she truly the monster?

She frowned. If she didn't have her own Gabe or Javier, would she have killed Fern? And the truth she didn't want to realize? Clementine didn't know.

David's grumble snapped her eyes back to him. He strode forward, towards the door. "You people are on your own." The door slammed behind him.

"Such an asshole," Gabe whispered in disappointment.

Javier and Kate stepped towards the door. As Gabe went to Clementine's side, she heard Kate murmur, "I've seen that look in his eyes before. You should go talk to him."

"I will."

Once Javier closed the door behind him, Kate focused her gaze out of the window. Clementine listened to the screams and mangled groans in the distance, and the whimpers from Fern at the couch. "We should sweep the perimeter to see if we can find people," Kate murmured quietly.

"Okay," Clementine replied in the same manner. Together, with Gabe following Clementine, they walked down the hall, carefully avoiding the despaired people along the sides. At each window, the three looked on, only to find chaos. The closest people to the doors were long since dead, and the gunshots that fired were too far away.

Kate didn't care, however. She frantically searched for a person in need every chance she got. Gabe fired at a few walkers from dozens of windows, only for the innocent on the road to be overtaken anyway.

Clementine swallowed after several long grueling minutes of this; she felt her heartbeat pulse in her palm against her pistol's handle. They had almost completely circled the building when cracks of gunfire—from_ outside_—rang in her ears.

The three all froze and looked at one another. "There's somebody here!" They threw their heads towards the closest window, and Clementine gasped. "Fuck! It's Ava!" Her heart pounded. In the back of her mind, Clementine came to a quick conclusion: she needed Ava. And...Ava needed her. Right then and there.

She charged towards the stairwell, shoving the door open. "Stay up here and cover her! I'll get her in!" she barked. Kate and Gabe nodded, smashing the window open. The cracks of their bullets echoed down the steps that Clementine flew down. At the foot of the stairway, there was a door. "God_ damn_ it!" she hissed.

The door was blocked by a hefty bookshelf, stocked full of odd items. Hurriedly, she scooped the items on one shelf and hurled them to the floor in a single motion. Then the next shelf, and the next. Once all the shelves were clear, she heard Kate call out to Ava: "STAY BY THE DOOR! CLEMENTINE'S DOWN THERE!"

Clementine didn't pause when she heard Ava's near-strangled warnings of a few walkers by the doorway. She rammed herself into the bookshelf. It screamed against the floor as she pushed it backwards.

The door was wrenched open, and there she found two furious walkers in her way. With a growl, she closed the door on one of their heads, promptly bashing it, then booted the other to the street. She shot it in between its eyes. Her attention swiveled towards Ava's guttural snarl. In the road, the woman bashed a walker with the butt of her gun, unbeknownst of the threat over her shoulder.

_Oh my god._

Clementine aimed and fired, her bullet cracking through the walker's skull. "AVA!" Clementine shouted. Ava's stunned gaze whipped around. Clementine waved her over from the door. "COME ON! IN HERE!" As Ava bolted towards the door, more walkers were sent to the ground. Behind Ava, Clementine slammed the entryway closed. "The shelf, we have to get it back over here!"

Ava nodded, and she shoved her weight into it as Clementine pushed from the side. Their breaths were heaved. The air was sharp and heavy all the way down her throat and into her lungs, but when Clementine lifted her head, she was glad. Ava didn't look bitten; at least, she didn't wear the look of someone who was bitten.

Clementine's hands balled before she jumped into Ava for a crushing embrace. She felt Ava's rattling heartbeats as the woman responded in kind. After a few moments, they jumped away, eyes avoidant.

Ava, with a tired sigh, watched Clementine. "How'd you find me?" she asked through a cough.

With the door was blocked once more, sure that nothing would get through, Clementine jerked her chin towards the gunfire up the stairs. "We got in here about an hour ago. Gabe, Kate and I've been checking the perimeter when I saw you from upstairs."

"Well...thanks...Clementine," Ava said through pants. "God, it's hell out there." She folded her hands over her eyes, her handgun still in her right palm. "Fuck... Joan's dead. Why... Why the hell did you let him shoot her?!"

"I didn't think he was going to!" Clementine snapped back. "But it's done, there's nothing to fix it! She's nothing but walker food now!" Ava inhaled with a hiss, her hand over her opposite forearm; a thick, angry line was still visible. Clementine winced. The frayed rope that held her hostage beside Tripp…who was also…gone. "I... I'm sorry, Ava."

Ava swallowed, her eyes hard on the girl. They softened, however, knowing Clementine's noble gaze all too well—rare as it was. "I know. But what makes you think_ he_ isn't? He sent me to die!"

"Go and ask him that, okay?! Javi's a good person."

"And you trust him?"

"With my life." Ava remained silent. She briefly glanced towards the steps coming down the stairs. It was Kate and Gabe, cautiously waiting. "Ava, come on. He's with David."

"And David's okay?" she asked.

Clementine shrugged. "He's not hurt, if that's what you're asking."

"Fine. Where is he?"

Kate stepped in: "We can find him now, if you want. Javi's talking to him." Ava nodded. She followed Clementine up the steps, who in turn followed Kate and Gabe. Clementine, periodically, glanced behind her, and she met Ava's cold eyes. They were only warm for her, and uncertain. But…glad, all the same.

Clementine pursed her lips and continued forward, her thoughts suddenly scavenging for that night. When A.J was stolen from her. When her dependency of her flask consumed her.

**[. . .]**

Clementine, empty bottle at hand, stumbled through the trees. Her movements were sluggish as she neared the boarded shed in the clearing. Once at the door, the bottle was tossed to the side, smashing into the wall. In her drunken stupor, Clementine barely navigated her steps to the blankets laid on the floor. She tumbled to the ground.

Eagle-spread, she stared at the ceiling, reliving the night over and over again. A.J, and his cries disappearing behind her. Ava, and her shouts to face the consequences. David, and his empty promises.

She closed her eyes with her forearm across her face. Clementine groaned, the drink in her body burning. Nothing singed like the tears dripping down her cheeks. She sat up, holding her prized possession. "Fuck... God_ damn_ it!" In an instant, the flask was hurled across the room, its corner dented as it toppled to the floor. Clementine stood up and paced. "God damn it. I... David, you fucking bastard. You _fucking_ bastard!" She choked on her angry sobs as she threw the camping bed across the room.

It crashed into the shelves, knocking the majority of its contents off. Books. Cups. Plates. Toys. Glass and china crackled as her boots stormed across the disaster, and she swiped her flask from the floor. The lid was quickly unscrewed, leaving her to drain the rest of it away.

Once she swallowed the last of the whiskey, Clementine slowly staggered to a small wooden chair. She sat down, her face in her hands. Tears bloomed and dropped onto her lap. "A.J... I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to...to..." She sniffed, wiping the unceasing tears away.

Bushes rustled outside.

Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

Clementine paused, wiping her eyes quickly. "Shit..." she hissed, dragging herself to the door. Just outside, Clementine glared out into the trees, focused on the batch of pushes to the left. With her jaw locked tight, she whipped out her knife.

The bushes rustled once more, and hastily, a figure stood with their hands up. "Woah there, Clem! It's just me." Ava stepped out, shrugging the duffle-bag over her shoulder. Clementine slipped the knife away, folded her arms, and then leaned against the doorframe.

"What the hell do you want?" she snarled.

Ava winced. "I'm really glad I found you." She looked around with a small laugh. "You don't break habits, do you?"

"Starting tomorrow, I will."

Ava wasn't surprised, though it didn't lessen the sting. "I... Right. Clementine, I know this is hard. I'm so sorry for what happened with A.J. And I know you're pissed," she said softly, though her words gathered edge: "Spitting in his eyes and breaking his nose_ really_ got that message across."

Clementine hissed, "Fuck off!"

"I... Heh, I deserve that. Look, I'm not here to upset you more."

"Too little, too late."

Ava sighed. She was going to be difficult, it seemed. "Right. Uh, look, here..." She threw the duffle-bag to the ground, right at Clementine's feet. "It's not much, but you need food for all of that shit you drank tonight."

Clementine sent a quick glare, slow to get to her knees. She unzipped the bag and found several energy bars, water bottles, jerky, and— Clementine pulled out the sheet of paper. On it was an array of colors all scribbled down as several blobs.

Her tears returned as she fell backwards. Her arms rested on her knees, back against the door frame. "David... He wanted you to have that. A.J drew it after you— It calmed him down..." Ava explained, sinking to her knees.

"Th-This..." Clementine felt her heart's pain stretch down her arm, settling deep around her thumb. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome. Consider it a...peace offering?" Ava swallowed, and scratched her wrist. "Just...we care about you. Even if it feels wrong, and shit gets fucked, people are still trying to do the right thing by you. Remember that?" Clementine didn't answer. "And, look, Clementine, it's dangerous out here, and I know you're hurting. You have to keep your level head, find some protection." She stood up. "Plan for after."

Clementine got to her feet, muttering, "I can make it on my own, just like I always have. I don't need anybody else. And I don't want it."

"And I don't blame you," Ava said quickly. "Just...don't overestimate what you're capable of. For me, and you know this, surviving means finding other people that I trust just as much as they trust me. The New Frontier. Kept me going during my darkest moments..." She paused as Clementine's stare hardened. "And you'll find yours. Trust me. Some one, or some thing. They're out there."

"Not... Not anymore."

Ava's stature softened from dignified to compassionate. "What...do you mean?"

"Why do you think I don't go with groups?" Clementine said with a bite. Then, gently, she added, "They're all dead. All of them. Lee..." She couldn't name anybody else. Not without remembering everything.

"You never mentioned him."

"He took care of me," Clementine murmured, "when everything started... Every time I look at A.J, I hear him in my head, guiding me. Or, he did."

"He's still with you, you know... Here." Ava rested her hand over her chest. "And so's A.J." She added a smile, a soft one, for the chance that Clementine's touch exterior to crack. It didn't. "From the first time we met, right here, surrounded by absolute hell, you and A.J were a light in the darkness, hope for a better world! That's... That's who you are.

"Promise me, you'll never lose that light."

Clementine looked away from Ava's eyes. They always saw through her—reached deeper than any sip from a flask or bottle could. "I... I'll try. I promise, I will."

Ava smiled. "You're a tough kid. Don't change that. Please." Her grin dropped, and she said, "I...have to get back before they notice I'm gone." She stepped closer. "And, Clementine, those good people that are out there? There's...an old airfield, Prescott. Ten or so miles south of here. They'll help you, I'm sure. There's good people there. They'll help you."

She stretched out her hand. "I'll miss having you around, Clem." Clementine hesitated. She took her hand and shook. "You'll be okay. I promise."

That wasn't something she could promise, but Clementine relented. "Thanks, Ava," she breathed.

Ava nodded, then stepped away. "Good luck out there, kid. And, well...maybe we'll run into each other at some point."

Clementine didn't say anything, and only watched as she walked back through the bushes, into the dark. Her eyes dropped back to A.J's drawing. Her eyes burned as she whispered, "Fuck... A.J. I'm so, so sorry..."

**[. . .] **

_But I'll get you back, I promise._

Clementine knocked a walker off the highway pass. Every bone in her body ached. Around her, the group dealt with the dead as they passed, bathed in the maroon sky's glow. The sun was beginning to set, and Clementine could only wonder what hell that night would bring.

She moved forward, however, despite everything. With Ava alongside her. They were quiet for a long, long moment—long enough to catch clips of Javier and Gabe's conversation.

"So...what _have_ you been up to? Other than robbing people on the streets and trying to steal cars."

Clementine chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes. "How'd you know about that?"

Ava replied, "The New Frontier has eyes everywhere. You know _that._ And...you might've scared some people that ran to us."

"Whatever." Clementine thought for a moment. "And you?"

"Not great, if I'm honest."

"Yeah, I figured."

Ava's grin was small. "Always the charmer, aren't you?"

Clementine's cheeks grew red, and she turned away from Ava's soft laugh. Another few walkers dealt with. Another few moments of silence. "Did you know about A.J?"

"I did..." Ava glanced at Clementine before holding her gaze forward. "I did want to go find you, to tell you. But with what Joan did to the New Frontier, it was harder for me to break away. And... Well, we did visit Prescott for supplies—"

"I know about the supplies."

Ava nodded bitterly. "Joan did always have a way of pulling the wool over our eyes... But, when we were at Prescott, I did try to find you. But I heard you— That you were the drunk that traded with them."

"Don't call me that," Clementine murmured.

"It's not a lie, though, is it?" Ava pursed her lips, her eyes meeting Clementine's. "You broke our promise. What happened?"

"Robbing people off the streets. Trying to steal cars."

Ava exhaled sadly. "I, I figured that's what happened." They pressed forward, and Clementine saw a dangerously tight path ahead. "And now? Now you know about A.J, that changes things?"

"He's the person out there waiting for me, Ava. _That_ hasn't changed."

"Can you promise me something?"

"I can."

"Look, once you find him, just know that...you can trust more people. You can find a home. If not for you, for A.J," Ava said.

Clementine frowned in thought, and slowly nodded. "I-I will. Eventually, if I have to walk across the States, I will."

"Good... Good..." Ava and Clementine shared a glance. "I'm going to talk to David for a moment."

"Alright." As Ava jogged to her comrade's side, Clementine heard Gabe make his way to her. Replacing Ava from the opposite side, Gabe smiled at her awkwardly. "Hi," she said, quietly.

"Hey," he replied. Their pace slowed once Kate, David and Ava halted at a barrier. "What's up with that?"

"People trying to block off the road, I guess... Or an accident," Clementine said.

She heard Javier's voice from behind: "God that looks terrifying... David! Is there a way around that?!" Up ahead were a piled cars across the lanes, some teetering towards the edge—which had been blown apart at some point.

David nodded. "Yeah, but we'd have to go one at a time!" When Clementine, Javier and Gabe caught up, David said, "There's some space around here. I can go first."

"And I'll go second," Gabe announced. David smiled approvingly. He then looked onward to the daunting task at hand; with great care, David slid along the edge, balancing between not touching the closest rickety car and falling over the edge. He made it, safe.

"It's doable," he said, "just be careful with it."

Gabe nodded, and followed suit. The car wiggled, freezing him for a moment. However, Gabe, too, made it. Kate was next, swearing every second of it. "Alright..." Clementine mumbled. She padded her away around the first headlight, her back to the drop to the surface streets. Everything was trembling increasingly. But, like all before her, she made it. Clementine sighed in relief. "Okay. Javi, Ava."

Javier's gulp was noticeable across the obstacle. Ava and Javier spoke to each other, then Javier began to scoot his feet around. The car jerked forward, throwing his balance. "Javi!" Clementine snapped.

Then there was a groan. Both Clementine and Ava saw it first. The latter ducked towards Javier. "Javi! Behind you!" Clementine shouted as David charged towards the car. With Clementine by his side, they both tried to stabilize the car's movements as a walker crawled out through the windshield. A desperate comradery.

Javier's balance was completely thrown, though with Ava's aid, he was shoved towards the rest of the group. However, like polar ends, the walker and Ava collided, unable to be broken apart as she fell screaming.

"AVA!" Clementine and David roared. The rest were frozen in place, throats tight.

From below, both heard the devastating crack of bone.

All was silent aside from David's heavy breaths, Javier's frantic panting, and Clementine's stunned whimpers. "I... David. It— I'm sorry, it happened so fast. I didn't realize that she'd... That she'd fall."

David sucked in his cry and said, "I-I know. I know. She was a brave soldier." He paused, wiped his eyes promptly, and exhaled. "She'd kick me if she knew I was crying over her instead of carrying on with the mission." David sniffed. "She... Ava made her honorable sacrifice. And we have to move..."

Clementine couldn't tear her eyes away. A swarm of walkers had piled on top of her body, far below her. She cried to herself, planted on the ground as David picked himself up, inhaled the last of his tears, and walked painfully away. He would save his tears for later, off the field of battle. Gabe lingered in his spot, watching Clementine.

Javier crouched beside her, his hand grasping her shoulder. "She... She was the only one who understood. She— Ava's the one who branded me so I could feed A.J."

He squeezed her shoulder, then hugged her. "I'm sorry, Clementine. I, I didn't mean for it to happen. I—"

"I know. I know." Clementine stood up, eyes still far below. "I just... I need a few minutes. I'll walk, but I need a few minutes." He nodded. Javier they strode ahead, guiding Gabe with him to allow Clementine the space.

For a long moment, she watched the street below. "I'll keep my promise, Ava," she whispered. "I'll...I'll try to find people. I'll try to find a home." Clementine tore herself away from the edge and moved forward. Her gaze didn't raise, not unless there was a commotion or a growl of a walker. The obstacles to come on the highway pass, she'd take them, without a word.

_I promise, Ava. For A.J, and...for you._

**[. . .]**

Clementine clenched her jaw and breathed deeply, swallowing her fiery drink. When she finally picked up her head, she noticed that everybody had halted. Once again, they had reached the garage. From the water-tower's catwalk, Clementine saw the construction vehicles with the random car or truck.

Everybody beside her peered down, their eyes dotting around, counting the walkers below. "Shit," Kate breathed. "They're everywhere. And we need those vehicles."

"I know," Javier muttered. "God, I miss when we were tracking the herd. From a safe distance."

David gave a dry chuckle. "It's not like we can go and ask them to move out of the way."

Beside Clementine, Gabe frowned before a grin spread across his lips. "Why don't we use noise? We could use that generator down there!" he said, pointing across the small field.

"That's a great idea!" David beamed. "Good thinking. When did you get so smart?"

"Should've seen him during these past few years, David," Javier said. "He's good with this stuff, right?"

"Uh... Y-Yeah. Thanks, Javi," Gabe mumbled.

Javier nodded, then pointed out the obvious: "That could work, if we could get to the generator. How the hell could we get past them?"

Finally, Clementine broke her silence and said, somewhat cheekily, "Go down, cut open a walker, rub its guts all over, and you can just walk past them." She felt each and every one of their stares. Her attention spun to the family, who all looked equally disgusted. "What? It works."

"And how do you know that?" Javier asked curiously—scratch that:_ hopefully_.

She looked at him. "I've been doing this since the beginning. It works. Just...don't scream, or anything."

"Holy shit," Javier hissed. "Is that why you reek? You've been spreading all of their guts over your pretty little face?"

"Yup." Clementine turned to him, smile wide. "So...Javi? I can count on you to do things for me, right?"

He narrowed his eyes. "...on occasion."

"Can this be one of them?"

"Why? You've done this before, you must be good at it!" Javier pointed down below. "Go on! Put your perfume on, Clem! You're gonna need it for later."

Clementine rolled her eyes. "Whatever." Her eyes lowered to the walkers. Ava's screams. They still terrorized her. Clementine barely shook her head, throat clogged before she looked back to Javier. "I…" His eyes softened. "Can you do it?"

Javier's sigh was gentle, but elongated in an effort to negotiate the slightest grin out of her. It didn't tamper with his sincerity, however: "Yeah... Okay, I'll do it." As he climbed down the ladder, all three on the catwalk thanked him in their respective ways: David through a brief grunt, Gabe through a subtle murmur, Kate through generous worry, Clementine through a supportive, quiet grin.

Once he was halfway down, Clementine swallowed before she told him, "Oh, and when you do it, the walker's smell way worse than you can imagine."

"Was that supposed to be helpful?"

"Uh... Well, yes, originally, but I didn't want to lie."

Javier waved her away lazily, and stalked behind a few crates. The catwalk was full of anticipation (and Clementine unscrewing her flask, eager to decimate her grieving, and instead dive head-first into the rush of entertainment). He slit a walker's throat, then pulled it behind. Clementine grinned behind her flask as he cut the walker open, from jugular to stomach.

She chuckled to herself, slipping the flask back once Javier scrunched his face at the smell, coughing. He glared up the water tower, flipping her off. She waved back.

Kate leaned closer to Clementine and asked, "Are you...enjoying yourself?"

Clementine shrugged. "It's not like there's T.V anymore."

"Oh my god…"

However, once Javier had rubbed the rotting innards all over him, Clementine braced herself. Her show was done, and Javier's anxiety spiked. He walked carefully forward, growling at the nearest walkers. And while his teeth baring and low grumbles were comical, Clementine couldn't help but watch carefully, her hand folded over her pistol. "Come on, Javi...you're so close..."

A minute of mockery passed. The generator bellowed to life. The four on the catwalk silently cheered as they snaked their way down the ladder, relieved. Javier waited by the wide, metal door.

Clementine grinned as the party took cover in the garage. "Good going, and you smell like shit," she said, patting his shoulder.

And before Javier could thank her, David muttered, "Barely."

Javier rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Well I _did_ turn it on…" He waved the air, sighing. "Look, we need to seal the breach. There's going to be something here. All we have to do is get the right vehicle," Javier said.

Kate, who eyed a bulldozer with a buskin agreed and pointed: "That could work."

David, on the other hand, kept his eyes on a heavy-duty truck, with light beams along the roof, uncracked windows, and strong tires. Javier shook his head. "Uh, that's not going to do the job, man—"

"Yes. It is." David turned around.

"What do you doing?"

"The right thing." He looked around the room, to his son, his brother, and his wife. "We're leaving. We're—" he looked at his failed comrade— "_all_ leaving."

Clementine sneered, having David's gaze only just leave her. Javier stumbled over his next few words, stepping closer to his brother. "A-And go where?! There's nothing but the herd out there, and you know that!"

David growled, "And I'm saving my family. And you too, Clem. You helped and...and you're coming along." She couldn't speak. Her gut writhed at the thought of leaving. After all this. After— After _everything. _"Let's go, we can't wait for long—"

Kate's voice pierced through Clementine's thoughts: "This is bullshit, David!"

Javier, too pulled from his stunned thoughts, snapped, "Absolutely not! Richmond will die without us! We can't—!"

"They don't matter right now, Javi! Don't you get that?!"

From the corner of Clementine's eye, she saw Kate run a tight grip through her air, brows narrowed. "This all started the day we knocked on Richmond's door! We brought this on those people! _All_ of us! We can't abandon them! Not after what we've done!"

"We're going home, Kate! Back to where we were last as a family! We're all together again, finally! W—"

"David. I-I know, okay? I get it. I wouldn't mind starting over myself. But..." Javier released a hard sigh, glancing at Clementine for support. "We can't go home," he said, watching her expression soften. Javier turned back to David. "Our home was a part of our old life. We can make Richmond the home of this _new _one. I'm not running from that, David. I can't."

David briefly held his breath, then exhaled slowly. "And I'm glad you won't run. For once. But, Javi, the world's out their waiting for us. We can't stay. We're hated here."

The garage dipped into a brief silence, aside from the curious walkers thumping on the generator. Gabe, self-assured, picked up his head. "I'll, I'll go with you, Dad."

_What the actual fuck!? _Clementine's head snapped towards him as he walked to his father. "Gabe?!"

"He's my dad, Clem. I have to go," Gabe said. "I'm sorry, but you wouldn't understand."

Her gaze hardened, and her throat tightened. Javier, noting Clementine's slight, and his own bouts of worry winced. "Think this over, buddy."

Kate, with a hint of pain, asked, "Gabe? Is this what you really want?"

He nodded. "I know it's scary out there, but I have to."

With his comforting hand on Gabe's shoulder, David promised, "You don't have to be afraid, Gabe. What happened to Mariana won't happen to you. You have my word."

"He wouldn't have been afraid," Javier snapped, "if you came back. Neither of them would have." He smiled briefly; "I wish you got to know her. Her smile, man, lit up the whole room," he said.

"And I won't miss another moment now. You have my word."

Kate, with a grim acceptance, said, "I understand, Gabe. I understand." Her eyes flicked to the bulldozer. "I'm going back. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try to save the people in Richmond."

David scoffed. "You won't be able to live _at all _if you do that. Richmond—" he jutted his hand out of the garage— "is compromised! Doesn't matter if there were five of us trying to save it, or five-hundred. We would all die. I know a losing battle when I see one. We're moving out! Everyone get in, and that's an ord—"

He failed to notice Kate storm in his direction in three strides. David never entertained the idea that she would slap him. And with him stunned, Kate snarled, "How fucking dare you?! What will it take, David?!" Gabe froze, watching the two in fear. Clementine and Javier shared a surprised glance. "What will it take to show you that you do not get to do that?!" Her jaw tightened as she hissed between her teeth, "We-are-_not_-your-soldiers!" Kate backed away, wringing her hands in the air. "Go away to 'home!' Be a deserter! I am done with you!"

David blinked, dumbfounded. His chest ached as she added, "I can't believe I ever loved you..." Kate turned around. "Let's go, Javi."

"Why the fuck do you think he would go with you?!"

It was on an impulse. A touch of scorn. Kate pressed her lips on Javier's, then pulled away. Her eyes were cold as she watched David's rising anger and anguish. "Tell him."

Javier gaped for air, processing the sudden warmth on his lips that was quickly removed. "What the fuck is this?!" David growled. "Javi!"

"I... David, we're— Neither of us meant for it to happen. It just happened. We're— We're in love and... I love her, man," he said, almost quiet. "I-I'm sorry. It wasn't—"

David's hands balled. "I should've known." He began to circle his brother, who paced in suit. "The night Pa died. The night _you _weren't there!"

"David, please! I-I tried, man. I did. I didn't want it to hap—"

"No! Blood is _worthless _to you!" He pulled back his sleeves. Clementine saw a new ghost haunt his eyes, one of violence. Unfathomed anger. "Just like Pa's worthless to you! Just like _I'm_ worthless to you!" his face was warped into a sneer as his fists crackled. "Well now, I'll show you what blood _really means!_"

"Dav—" His brother swung, clobbering Javier in the stomach. Kate screamed for David to _stop_ as Javier was shunted to the wall.

"What do you have to say for yourself, brother?"

"David, _stop it!"_

"Please, Dad!"

Javier, his world crumbling to pieces, choked. He never wanted this. Pulled in between, the inevitable fight with Kate on one side, David on the other. Both. He wanted to save them both. In a grizzly whimper, Javier said, "I love you!"

David staggered. "No. _No! _You do not get to do that!" His fists plummeted into Javier's sides, sending him to the ground.

"DAVID, FUCKING STOP!"

He ignored his wife's—no, no, that _woman's—_livid pleas. He grabbed a tool from a toolbox.

"David, put the fucking wrench down!" Clementine snarled with Gabe striding towards the two brothers. Javier twisted around at Clementine's words, barely able to save his face from the wrench. Gabriel's yell to stop the fight was cut off once David swung backwards, knocking it into his jaw. "Gabe!"

David hadn't paused. Not like back in Richmond. David was rabid. Ballistic. He continued to choke is brother with the wrench at his jugular.

Yet, Javier couldn't fight back. Both… He kept Kate alive. And Gabe. And Mariana-until he couldn't. But David, he didn't know. He didn't know that he was still alive. How could he? Javier choked, his shoulders tense. Javier wasn't going to lie about Kate; she gave him something he never felt. At the same time, Javier couldn't throw his brother away. Not like this. He—

His head spun. From the wrench, and the nightmare he managed to plunge himself into. With all the energy Javier had, he still managed, "I love you... I love you, brother!"

The other three grew more hysterical: Gabe with tears running down his cheeks, Kate struggling to find anything—absolutely _anything—_to put an end to it all, and Clementine with snow whipping her thoughts. "Stop it!" she screamed, an echo of all those years before. There, the Devil's choice came back to her. Clementine reached for her hip.

_Not again. Not. Again._

Her steps were hesitant at first, then frantic. She halted once dirt crunched underneath her boots.

_Not Javi. No, not Javi._

He was family, wasn't he? An uncle. _Her_ uncle. The pistol in her hands aimed. She wouldn't turn her head. Not this time. Never again.

Snow overturned the horizon, and she was that frail little girl in the blue coat again. Clementine bared her teeth, the pistol throbbing against her hands.

The shot shrieked as it split through the air, sinking deep into David's shoulder. His cry was abrupt, and he rolled off of Javier. David got to his feet in a matter of seconds, holding his shoulder and looking into her eyes.

Neither brother knew what to make of what they saw. In her eyes, they saw not the whiskey and hellfire. She was sober now. Sober with a beast's fire—which had been well-fed by her drink.

There stood Clementine with Kenny's monster lurking inside. Twisting. Writhing.

Javier croaked as all the color drained from his face. _Oh no… Clementine._ He saw the beast she was hiding from. And that beast, it warped her face into one of terrified madness. One that horrified him.

Her eyes flickered over David's shoulder. Everything hummed. There were no thoughts. No emotion. She fired once again, ignoring Kate's shout as a walker was knocked to the ground. Javier scrambled to his feet, bashing several down before he scampered back to the garage. Clementine followed; there were so many.

And inside, Clementine looked at Javier, Kate and— "No!"

The garage, with David and Gabe outside, was tugged down forcefully. All three ran towards the door, Javier pulling it back open. The truck's engine roared to life. The wheels spun to quickly charge out of their line of sight.

"He took Gabe!" Clementine hissed, swallowing the monster that ravaged within her. Silencing it for another battle.

Kate nodded bitterly. "He— He wanted to go. He did, you heard him," she said.

"You're right... I know… I know, you're right."

Kate's eyes were set on the bulldozer. "I'm getting on that. We can't stay here any longer than we have, and we need to help Richmond. _I _need to."

Clementine, with a sure gaze, agreed: "And so am I. You're going to need extra hands." She turned to Javier, who only just broke his gaze from the distant space where David and Gabe disappeared. "And you...Javi? Are you—"

"Yes, I'm going," he said. "I— Richmond needs all the help it can get. And, and it's our fault. I can't run away from that." Javier looked at the two, tightening his jaw and nodding. "Come on." His eyes travelled to the lockers lining the wall of the garage. "And if we're going to go into the herd, we'll need these." He pulled out heavy rifles, and an AK-47. With each person equipped with their weapon, the trio charged for the bulldozer.

Kate latched herself onto the wheel, and they took off. While it wasn't the speed demon of wheels, the machine crushed everything in its path with brute force, leaving a trail of splattered remains.

By the time they reached the main gate, they were stunned by the presence of horses and—

"What a happy sight! Mind getting the gate open for us?"

"Jesus?!" Javier asked. "I barely recognized you!"

Jesus grinned in his armor, hair tied in a bun, revealing his powerfully-built shoulders. He turned his steed around with a nod. "Once I made contact with my people, I headed right back. Had to make sure you folks were safe."

"I'm getting the hang of this, Javi! I'll get you to the gate, alright?!" Kate yelled from the cockpit.

"Yeah, okay!"

Clementine, gunning several walkers down, said, "I'll cover!"

Kate, grunting as she maneuvered the levers, glanced at Javier. "Get in the scooper!"

"The—"

"THIS!" The bucket waved, barely flinging off the walkers as Clementine dealt with them. He hopped in, slipping and sliding, before they reached the gate. Javier was propped up to the control center for the gate; once clambered on top, he glanced behind.

The dead had conquered Richmond. Everywhere he looked, there wasn't a muerto-free slab of concrete—no building safe. "There's hell to pay," he snarled to himself, punching a button in the control (which, luckily, was the correct one).

Down below, as the Kate and Jesus' group cheered and neighed, Clementine frowned. Her skin prickled peculiarly. She looked up. It was going to rain. There was hell to pay, she was sure. But, that didn't mean hell wouldn't drag people down with it.

She loaded the assault rifle. With Javier on the other side, and Kate charging forward with the small herd of horses in the lead, Clementine said, "I'll never get tired of watching these bastards fall."

Javier nodded. "We're one and the same."

**[. . .]**

Rain pattered from the grey clouds looming above, just what her intuition promised. Her intuition, too, vowed something else. Something far more sinister: Richmond may have been in good hands, but the dead always claimed any scrap of the living they could manage. She just hoped it didn't spread death that night. Not… Not more than Ava.

Clementine and Javier, undeterred of the storm (the least of their problems), navigated through the streets in determined, worried strides. She didn't speak as Javier, eyes alert and wary, darted back and forth. He shuffled from building to building. Whispering, then hissing, then barking, then over again.

"They— They have to _be_ here! They can't have gone far, the herd, they— Oh God, please. Please..."

His head swiveled towards alleyways as Clementine kept ahead of him, ducking around corners to ensure that nobody—alive or rotting—was watching them. They splashed through a puddle as Javier jerked his head to the right. There, he saw a pile of muertos motionless underneath a crashed, blue truck. The very same—"Clementine!" he hissed. Javier bolted down the street with Clementine at his heel.

At the foot of the truck, Clementine kept her eyes out as Javier looked inside. "David, no!" he cried, backing away with his hand over his mouth, eyes closed and jaw strained. Even though she was still numbed by the adrenaline ricocheting throughout her body, Clementine could still feel the jolt of pain that etched itself in Javier's chest. But the man kept scouring, however. Desperate. Panicked… She was almost jealous that he could feel the same pain she hid away so long ago; even so, from what she did feel—the way her body ached and mourned for Javier, she knew it was a fleeting, selfish prospect.

Clementine neared the passenger door of the truck and glanced inside, just able to catch the David lying motionless across the seats, a large crater in his head. She swallowed as Javier paced around, eyes peeled for Gabe, heart shattered for his brother. Clementine lingered, eyes to the milky whites of David's eyes. In them, she could still see those who haunted him during his waking breaths.

A walker's groan came from behind, and it jolted Clementine from her momentary line of thought. However, she took out her knife to quickly deal with it. Within seconds, it was dropped to the ground, and Clementine felt nothing but the numbing pulse of blood rushing.

Javier looked around the construction barriers as Clementine caught sight of another walker. "Gabriel! Oh, please, no!" For a moment, Clementine froze, the walker hanging from her blade. She shoved it off as he heard Gabe choke over his words, weakly holding out his wrist. Blood painted his skin and clothes, and his skin was a sickly familiar pale.

"B-But I couldn't... There were so many. That's— That's when I tried to stop him, but w-we crashed..." Gabe sobbed, eyes to his wrist, teeth marks gouging his skin. "I fucked up. I-I fucked up." He whimpered, eyes back to Javier who continuously shook his head in denial. Clementine's steps forward grew slower by the second, her head buzzing erratically. "After everything you t-taught me... I-It hurts...really bad..."

"No, no you didn't fuck up!" Javier choked. "You did everything you could, Gabe, o-okay?! Do you hear me?!"

Clementine knelt beside them. Her voice was clogged, and all at once the world around her focused: "Gabe, _no!"_ Each word shattered. And how could it not? This couldn't have happened. Not another one. Not another friend. Not another one stolen from her.

He watched her, wincing as he reached for his pocket with a shaken hand. "Clementine, can you do— _Engh. _Do me one favor?"

"Gabe, no, don't..."

"Take my cards." He pulled them out. His blood had seeped through the deck, unwashed by the rain drizzling over them.

"W-What...?"

"Please...take them," he said, sliding them into her hands. Her hands trembled as she felt the weight of an anvil settle within them. She cried. How could Clementine forget the way her body could tremble? _Not another one._

"Teach A.J how to play Euchre, okay?"

With a knot in her throat, she nodded, taking them. "O-Okay, I will." Clementine grabbed his hands, holding them between her own. "Be strong, Gabe, for whatever comes next," she whispered painfully. Everything throbbed. Within that minute, everything had warped from absolutely nothing but the walkers on the ground and the storm overhead, to the distortion reality brought.

Gabe nodded. And with the last of his energy, he promised, "I will."

For a long moment, she held his hands before finally squeezing them. "Bye, Gabe."

"Bye, Clem," he answered quietly. Sniffing, Clementine got to her feet. Gabe turned to his uncle. "Javi, give me your gun. I-I don't want to become a muerto."

Javier, stunned, bared his teeth and shook his head. "Gabe... I-I don't know if I can let you do that to yourself. I— I can't just—"

Gabe's breath shuddered. "And I can't let you do that for me. Just, just give me the gun." Javier closed his eyes, his skull tight as everything it contained throbbed. "Hurry...please, Javi. Give it to me."

Javier stood, opening his bleary eyes. He loaded the pistol, and Clementine broke her gaze from the ground to him. "N-No Gabe," he mumbled, "I'll do it." Clementine felt her heart split. She blinked, and in the distance, she saw herself in a jewelry store, dragging a man through door inch-by-inch.

Clementine felt every piece of Javier's growing pain, and she swallowed, braving it once more. For him.

But, at the same time, as she watched Javier and Gabe, Clementine was suddenly an outsider to this moment—a painful reminder of this dismal word and its realities. Gabe bowed his head. "Okay...okay," he said softly. He brought it up again. "You may not be my father, Javi," Gabriel said, each word increasingly forced out of him as his life flickered, "but you were a...great dad... I-I love you, Jav—"

"I love you too, buddy," Javier whimpered, his grip on the pistol trembling. Gabe set his head down, relaxing his body as he waited. With a gasp of breath, Javier raised the gun and pointed. It took several long seconds—the very same that Clementine knew—before his finger jerked at the trigger. Clementine flinched, though her eyes didn't tear themselves from the sight. His eyes were closed. Peaceful. A narrow tunnel through his beanie.

Javier stumbled away, down the street with his eyes set on the road. Clementine followed him, mindful of his space. At an intersection, Javier stopped, sinking to his knees with his face in his hands.

She got to her knees as well, her hand on his shoulder. "I... I..."

"I know," Clementine whispered.

He brought his face from his hands, watching her. "That moment," Javier asked, throat clogged, "when you—when you shot Lee, it doesn't leave you, does it? It's in your sleep, isn't it? His face? His last breath?"

Everything crumbled. They embraced each other, arms tight. "Always," she cried. "He's always there. But...but he's the one that forgives me, Javi. He's the only one that forgives me."

"Okay...okay... I-I... You think Gabe will too? And Mari?"

She nodded against him. "They will. They already _have_."

"Okay... Okay..."

**[. . .]**

Everything was...peaceful. And quiet.

In Richmond, those who wandered outside, in the grass and sunlight, kept to themselves or within their closely knitted groups. The wind brushed against the leaves of the bushes and trees, and the sun was jovial within the bright sky.

Clementine sipped on her flask, finally relaxing her shoulders for a long moment. She sighed, however, knowing that the peace would only be a moment in time. The world outside the gates cried for her. Cried for her to reunite with A.J once more. With another sip before stowing the flask away, Clementine felt the buzz prickle throughout her body, giving her the energy to move forward, accompanied by a certain form of duty.

Hooves clipped the ground before she looked up at the rider. "See you, Clementine," Jesus said as he passed by.

"You watch yourself out there," she replied, knowing damn well it was the _walkers_ that needed the advice—and Jesus knew too, based on his lazy wave. Clementine shook her head and scratched the back of her neck. She felt the long strands of hair that had overgrown, the same that had become a nuisance to manage. In thought, Clementine strode over towards Javier by the water fountain.

Once at his side, Javier exhaled softly. "So, you're going too?"

Clementine nodded. "Yeah, it's time... I need to find him."

"I know you do," he whispered, overlooking the courtyard. Children had raced out onto the patchwork field of grass with laughter and play. "I'm...going to be leading this place."

"That's good," Clementine said, arms folded casually. "You know how to lead people. I'm sure Richmond will be better off."

Javier chuckled to himself. "Yeah... Funny thing is, I think you'd do better at it than me."

She shook her head. "No. No, I'm not...the leader type. You know I don't go with groups to begin with."

"Oh," Javier countered gently, "but I see a strong leader, even if you're the loner-wolf type."

Clementine rolled her eyes, dismissing his comment with a wry grin. "That's…never going to happen. I— I seriously doubt it. I'd probably get my leg blown off before it ever happens." He smiled cheekily as she turned away, glancing at the church. "But, I do have a favor to ask."

"And what's that?"

She pinched the bill of her cap tenderly before slipping it off. Clementine turned back to Javier, her Dodgers hat in her hands. "Can you cut my hair? It's...been getting a bit long."

Javier nodded. "Sure thing. Yeah...I can." As he strode off to find scissors, Clementine found a table that sat by the grass, and then set her hat down. She pulled out the hair ties and clips, pocketing them—and she pocketed a lot more than she expected. Clementine frowned at the shadow she casted over the wooden surface of the table. It had been so long since Clementine had seen her hair down—usually, when she found a big enough body of _relatively_ clean water to bathe in (something that, you know, wouldn't have visible parasites to kill her), she was within the shadows.

"Hold up there... Is that a 'fro I see?"

Clementine swiveled around with an arched brow. Javier snickered as he twiddled the scissors in the air. "Yeah. That's why I need it cut."

"I didn't know you had an _afro_ though," he continued, eyeing the blank canvas he had to work with. Javier thought back to his many celebrity inspirations with a rub of his beard. Diana Ross kept coming to mind. And Michael Jackson—before he… Javier grimaced. Diana Ross would be the muse then…

"My mom had one too."

"Really?" he asked, starting to trim her hair down. "Were your parents black?"

"Oh," Clementine murmured, concentrating. She thought back to her childhood memories, avoiding the horrid night the week prior. Javier remained knowingly silent as the echoes of two gunshots lingered in her thoughts. "Well..." Clementine swallowed. "Well, my dad was. My mom was too, but she was mixed. I think...Mexican and Irish...? Italian? I don't know. She had light skin like me, though."

Javier nodded along. "That's interesting. A lot of my family's Cuban, but I got some Native American and Dutch in me too."

"Dutch?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Somebody couldn't resist sticking it into someone exotic—"

Clementine's eyes went wide, and she swatted him with her hat. "_Javier_, the fuck is wrong with you?!" she snapped as he chortled gleefully.

"Hey, I'm just sayin' how it is, alright? And besides, that went on a lot more with your bloodline than mine."

"And that's supposed to mean...?"

"You're really mixed." Clementine sighed heavily, not allowing herself to bite back in response. With a smug grin, Javier continued to cut her hair artsy-like. (…that is how hairstylists cut hair, right? Artsy-like?) "But um..." he murmured after a while, "your family, birth family I mean... Well, I mean before the muertos..."

Clementine furrowed her brows. "Yeah...?"

He shrugged his shoulders, his rhythm and snips slowing to a crawl. "You were young, right? Do you remember how it was before?"

Clementine grew quiet, momentarily lost in thought. She wrung her wrists and itched for her flask. "I mean, it's not like I don't have memories of my childhood. But they're not...clear, you know? They're fuzzy, and I forget them most of the time. They'll pop up every now and then because something reminded me of school or my treehouse or home." She laughed sourly before pursing her lips into a bitter grin. "I can barely see faces. They're either rotting or just...not there. Not my teachers...not my friends... Not— Not really my parents. But I remember buildings. My old school. My home. My—" she breathed another laugh— "my treehouse."

"I wonder if that makes living in this world easier," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." Javier kept his eyes on her, working on his craftsmanship as a hairstylist. "The older you get, the more stuck-in-your ways you are. You rarely see older folks anymore. Hell, you're probably some of the youngest they get when it comes to outside Richmond... Point is," he answered, "you don't have to think about all of what you lost as much. Everybody who was alive _then_ lost something, but you didn't have to lose thirty years of building yourself up, you know?"

"Yeah, I get what you're saying."

Javier stared at the large lock of hair he had just freed Clementine from with wide eyes. Leaving it to the ground, he figured that he'd do an undercut; it wasn't the _original _plan, but that's what he'd do. "And," he said, tucking his blunder under the figurative rug (he stamped the thing against the grass), "children bounce back... I just wish it wouldn't come to half the things we do now. Kate and I...we tried to protect them, you know? Make it so they didn't have to do the things they're too young to do." Clementine remained quiet, clasping her hands together.

"I just wonder though...if, if that's what got them killed. I treated them like kids like how we used to. And kids...hell, a lot of people were kids when they were in their early twenties. They didn't know half the shit you do."

"Well, they went to school more than me," Clementine murmured.

Javier's chuckle was too hollow to express the tension he felt rise off of him. "Yeah...I just wonder. With Kate and I...if we ever have some of our own, I want them to have Mariana's heart, Gabe's wit—especially for card games—and your...spirit."

"I thought you said you didn't gamble anymore."

"Well...I don't, but if it means they'll live, Clem, I do want them to have your greatest strength." Javier continued his masterpiece, only to find that his undercut was patchy. He grimaced, working at smoothing it out; were these scissors dull, or were his hands dull? Mariana had asked that question once. The memory brought a grin to his face, one that Clementine felt him wear as she stared at the table. "I used to cut Mariana's hair," he explained, answering her nonverbal curiosity.

Clementine said, "That's nice."

"Yeah... She said I was terrible."

Clementine's brow rose. "...are you?"

"Uh—" Javier cut another of the patches away— "none of your business."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

She kept her eyes on her lap, now worried. Though, as Javier took great care with his hands, cutting her hair gently, Clementine thought it wouldn't be that bad (...right? Was that a good thing to think?). Clementine held her hands together. A nasty thought that had burrowed itself within her for years had resurfaced: "I... What if I'm not the right person to raise him?"

Javier breathed in and out calmly. "You know, every parent has thought of that at one point, Clem, even me and Kate and we've never been biological parents. I know you're a good mom, Clem. You're not a perfect person, but you're very protective of people from what I've seen, and they weren't A.J. I can't imagine how protective you are of him."

"But...I don't know what I'm doing. I can't..." Her flask—the one and true best friend Clementine had for the past year or so—burned against her hip. She shifted as Javier paused to reevaluate some hair choices he made.

How strange was it that a leather-clad bottle had bound itself to her? Like another limb? Whenever it didn't hold her tight, she felt an empty crater within her chest.

A leech.

Clementine nearly jumped at the idea that her best friend was nothing more than a parasite. With A.J at the forefront of her thoughts, a battle raged on.

She relaxed her shoulders and sighed. Javier said, "Well, I don't think a lot of people do now. Especially since this world wasn't here five or six years ago." He clipped the last of her hair and rested his hand on his hip in thought, the other grooming his wispy-haired beard. "But you'll bring him back. There isn't any other person I can think of who could raise him."

"I...don't know." Clementine frowned, the internal war continuing. "Would... Would you teach us how to play baseball when we come back?"

Javier smiled. "Yeah, of course. And I'll make for damn sure neither of you are sluggers." Clementine chuckled quietly. "Alright," Javier said, backing a few steps away, "I'm done."

Excitement bubbled within Clementine. With a grin, she stood up and looked at Javier expectantly. "So how does it look?"

His grin froze in shock before it could be completely wiped away. The artsy-style had abandoned him. Everything was uneven. Why wasn't her hair as straight and easy as everybody else?! "Uh..." Clementine's expression froze, her eyebrow raising.

In short, Mariana was rolling in her grave.

Defeated, Javier deflated and mumbled, "I'm just going to get your hat..." Clementine's giddiness was extinguished once the Dodgers cap was slid on her head. Once she fixed it, Javier gave a meek thumbs-up. "Now it looks rad!" he tried to convince. "Would be even better if it weren't for the team."

"Team?"

"Yeah...it's a baseball team."

They began to walk away from the table towards the church. "Oh. This was my dad's hat," she said, "and...I think he may have been a baseball fan. I don't know, he had a lot of hats like this."

"Were any of them of mine?" Javier asked, strolling backwards as he puffed out his chest, presenting his jersey to her.

With a smirk, she said, "Doubt it."

"What?!"

Clementine snorted, and answered with a few giggles: "Bet."

Javier rolled his eyes. "I _don't_ gamble."

"...bet."

"Uncle Clem..."

"Bet, bet."

Javier couldn't resist joining in on the laughter. Both made their way onto the steps as the double doors opened. Kate grinned, her eyes darting between the two of them. "What's so fun— Oh...my god." Kate stared at Clementine. "Did Javi cut your hair?"

"How do you know it was me?!"

Kate folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Javi, the last time you tried to cut Mariana's hair, you split her eyebrow in half."

Clementine gawked, her eyes wide as she stared at Javier. "What. Did. You. Do?"

Javier crossed his arms dismissively, then scowled. "Mariana liked it... And anyway, it doesn't look bad with the hat on."

"Javi!" Kate gasped with a small grin. "You are not a barber."

"She asked me to!" He added, softly, "As a parting gift."

Kate's grin dropped somewhat as she glanced at Clementine. "You're leaving now?"

Clementine nodded. "Yeah. I might as well while the sun's still out and the herd's thin. I don't know how long it'll be before they come back. Someone said that they saw a group of them down south coming up."

"Like an aftershock?" Javier asked. She only nodded. "Well, we covered the hole, so at least there isn't any way they'll be coming in for a long time."

"Come on," Kate said, jerking her chin back to the church. "If that's the case, then I found something that will help with the muertos." Clementine followed Kate, leaving Javier to gaze across the grass towards the children at play. Inside, Kate rummaged through a crate beside a few benches. "It may be a bit tight if you zipped it, but it's leather. It should keep them from biting through."

Kate pulled out a red leather jacket. Patches were frayed and the color was worn, though it was otherwise in good condition. Clementine smiled and took it. "Thank-you. This is nice."

"Consider it _my_ parting gift." Kate crossed her arms tenderly and leaned against the wall as Clementine slipped it on. "So...? How is it?"

She stretched with few restrictions. Her eyes analyzed the length of the sleeves, which covered her wrists completely. "It is a little tight around the shoulders, but I like it. It's nice." Clementine tugged on the collar, folding it down. "It'll definitely get the job done, that's for sure."

"That's good. Hopefully it'll last," Kate said. She paused for a moment, watching Clementine solemnly. "Will you...come back?"

"Yeah, I think so..." Clementine replied. "With A.J. Maybe it won't be forever, but long enough."

Kate nodded slowly, then sighed. "It'll be strange, not having any kids around." Her eyes wandered towards the board of pictured casualties, to which Clementine followed her gaze. "I just...I don't know what to do, you know? It's not like I can start over immediately, but will I ever get the chance after today?"

"I'm not one to know," Clementine murmured. "I just...hope I see the sun rise and fall again."

The doors opened as Kate remained quiet, thoughts ablaze. Javier stood in the warm sun's light. "Nice jacket," he commented.

"Thanks."

The trio stood silent, the urge to speak unbearable. Instead, Javier pursed his lips and glanced at the afternoon sun as a gesture. Clementine nodded, leaving the church with Javier and Kate following. They made their way towards the main gate. Javier whistled up above, alerting the few guards to raise it. As the gate whined, trembling as it revealed more light, Javier exhaled slowly. "You...uh...you go and keep yourself safe out there, kid."

Clementine arched a brow. "Kid...? I think you mean _uncle_." Javier chuckled as she embraced him. "I will, Javi. Don't worry."

"I... I know. I've just heard some rumors about riots, and then the muertos—"

"Javi, I'll be okay."

Javier nodded as they broke away from their hug. Kate wrapped her arms around Clementine, murmuring, "Just... I know you will, but do be safe for us."

Clementine smiled gently. "I know, I know. I promise."

With the gate open, Clementine lead the way down the street. Javier and Kate lagged behind after passing a few cars. She turned around and waved, her eyes burning as Javier and Kate waved back, their arms around each other. Clementine then looked forward with eyes set in determination, accompanied by her elongated shadow trailing behind, underneath the orange sun.

She didn't look back.

Clementine felt the call for A.J deep in her bones, guiding her steps out of Richmond. And her flask, she heard its persuasive melody hum throughout her aching muscles.

For a moment, the mental battle within her ceased, allowing a sip of whisky to wash all of her troubling anxieties away. Clementine knew, from the bottom of her heart, that a fight would come to pass.

The question was, who would see the rising and falling sun the next day?

Clementine clenched her jaw as she neared the train's entrance.

That was always the question, wasn't it?

**[3 Weeks Later]**

Everything melded together that night. Clementine's thoughts were numb, yet her body surged with hellfire. She still tasted the whiskey on her tongue as hooves crackled against the ground.

She could smell the burning of flesh several miles away. By the time Clementine neared the ranch, she was appalled by the cloud of ash looming above, overtaking the night's sky. By how the building choked on the smoke as it poured out from many of the windows and doors. By how the oranges and reds of fire illuminated her eyes, the golden yellow in them igniting.

Her steed heaved from beneath her. Clementine charged forward, only to hear a gunshot. A jolt. The horse bucked and reared, screaming in pain. She fell onto the hard stone, and the horse plummeted to the ground. She gasped, the palms of her hands burning. The horse whinnied, weak with the life in his eyes draining away. As she crawled towards the belly of the horse, Clementine heard the distant screams of the night.

She then found the culprit who shot at her and fired into his shoulder. Clementine charged towards the man as he gagged, his hand pressed deep against his neck. Pistol raised, she snapped, "I'm looking for a boy! About three-years old, where is he?!" He shook his head, gurgling. She scowled. Her anger was charged, and Clementine unloaded a bullet into his cranium. It was so simple. So _easy. _She swiveled towards the double doors.

Yet she was held back. Her heart lurched. Her head spiked in pain. Clementine blitzed around. "A.J?!"

A child stood at the end of the stone bridge she'd crossed, behind the horse. But not A.J. The little girl wore a yellow dress with dark leggings, and striped sleeves. She couldn't have been younger than eight.

Wait. _The_ girl in the yellow dress. Clementine blinked.

The little girl vanished. Clementine lingered, momentarily possessed by the urge to follow. She sneered and twisted towards the barn. She didn't give a damn about the girl—whoever she was. Whatever the girl wanted from her, it didn't matter. The fire was messing with her head. And—

The smell. Oh, how the smell would haunt her... Their flesh. Their shrieks. The cracks and screams of the wood.

And their fearful eyes.

Oh, how their fearful eyes would stain her...

**[. . .]**

"Javier! Clementine's at the gate! She's waiting to see you!"

Clementine didn't have to wait for much long. The gate hadn't even closed yet, and she was parked along the side of the road. Javier jogged to meet her, eager. The one thing he didn't expect was for Clementine to return with a set of wheels—especially one that he wanted to drive himself _before_ the apocalypse.

And Clementine... She looked ill. Not sickly, or nauseous. Ill of mind. Her stare was hollow, and her skin was pale. It looked as if she had seen a ghost.

No.

Javier slowed his last few paces. He had seen that look in her eyes before. When she shot David's shoulder, promptly ending their last fight.

It was the beast again. Except now, it was tired. Worn.

Clementine sat on the trunk, her arms wrapped around herself with a little boy by her side. As Javier approached, the boy (who he knew was A.J) watched him nervously. "It's okay," Clementine whispered, "he's not going to hurt you." A.J watched her as she nodded, then looked at Javier. He was still nervous.

Javier smiled gently and offered his hand. "I'm Javi, little guy," he greeted kindly. A.J grabbed a finger, unsure, before pulling away. Javier furrowed his brows. "I, uh...heard about the fire at the ranch. I was worried about you and him, if you'd be able to make it."

"I got there after it broke out," Clementine murmured hoarsely. The life in her voice was gone. The fire of alcohol. "They had him in a locker...to keep him safe from the fire." She swallowed and clenched her jaw.

"Do you know if others got out?"

Clementine shrugged. "If...they came across me...n-no." Her eyes burned, and she wiped away the tears before they fell. "There was...a man," her voice shook. "He asked me to... I don't know how he was still alive. Most of his body was already charred." Javier hugged her, to which she held him back. "And...a woman... She..."

"I'm sorry..."

She nodded against his shoulder. "I... I came back, to say goodbye." He pulled away. "I— You don't need to do your end of the deal...you know. I just...I can't stay here. I don't—" Clementine cut herself off as A.J clung to her side.

"I... I understand," he said sadly, his face growing more solemn. "Where would you go?"

"I don't know. North? South? West? ...east? It doesn't matter, just...away. Away from this _warzone_."

Javier nodded. "Well...could you stay for a day? We can supply you with gas when you leave."

"I think...I'd like that." She wrapped her arm around A.J and looked at him. "For him, before we leave."

"You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you?" Clementine nodded and reached to her hip. She pulled out her square flask and forced it into Javier's hands. "What—?"

"Take it. I— I'd do anything for him, and I can't... I can't bring myself to do that anymore, live off of that thing. Just take it before I need it again." She shuddered, a tear falling. "And...thank-you. For everything."

"No, thank-you. Clementine," Javier began as he slipped the flask into his back pocket; even then, he knew he'd keep the flask, never to pour out the last of whiskey she could have drained away. "You are worth more than you believe. You are the only one I know who can raise A.J." Clementine's smile was watery. She didn't believe him. "Come on, rest now. You need it." He helped her off of the car, then jerked his chin, motioning to the guards to keep watch over the vehicle. And as the three of them walked away towards the center of Richmond, he hoped to God that she wouldn't suffer at her own hands again.

Javier knew he was kidding himself, but it felt better hoping.

He wanted to believe that her addiction—her demanding thirst—had been derailed with her flask in his possession. He wanted, with every fiber in his being, to believe that it had. The question was, however, would her hunger need rails to consume her? Had it already fueled something inside Clementine that desperately wanted to break free?

Javier watched her as she led A.J. There was something there...in her eyes. Just like Eleanor had once said. A dangerous beast in the midst of wildfire that her increasing sobriety revealed. It wasn't a dragon, no. He now understood _that_ was the flask's doing. But this? _This_ was something unnerving.

With her, in her eyes, Clementine carried the living dead of those she killed. And while they never rose from the dead, they still roamed within. And it did worry Javier, the things that Clementine was capable of. What she_ would_ be capable of.

What was worse? The dragon of that flask, or the nightmares that tormented her?


	4. TEMPORARY 2 (Nov 28)

Okay, okay, shoot me. I didn't post the interlude yet. xD

_However,_ I did finish adding those parts and editing. So. You know. While I do homework and the like, you can catch up until I post it. ;)

Maybe I'll give a sneaky hint as to what the interlude's about. Alcoholism. (A given.) Clementine. (Check.) And then…stuff from other seasons? Maybe? Perhaps? (…okay, yeah.)

Anyway! I hope you're enjoying it so far!

:D

PS: Take a gander, if you want. I want to see what you expect. xD


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